The Lost Victor
by Claire Thomas
Summary: Sequel to "The Other Victor". Two weeks after her boyfriend Haymitch Abernathy wins the Quarter Quell, seventeen year old Titania Fellcrest is executed. Or at least that's what the official story says; but Titania Fellcrest has always had ways to cheat Death. This is the story of how a young girl becomes the Lost Victor of District Twelve.
1. Chapter 1 Home

**THIS IS A SEQUEL!**

**If you haven't read "The Other Victor" turn back now or pay the consequences!**

**Consequences include: Confusion, refusal of the author to answer your questions about previous events, trolls in your closet, and the smell of fudge where there is no fudge to haunt you.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Hunger Games series, it's characters, or ideas. I do however own the OC's presented within this story.**

**That is all.**

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PART 1: SECRETS

Looking back on all the events in the last two years made me feel like an old wrinkly woman. That's what I honestly should be with all that emotional, physical, and mental trauma disguised as life experience I had received from playing in and Mentoring the Hunger Games. Yet as I even now looked in the mirror this crisp January morning, all I saw was long curly golden blonde hair, stormy blue eyes, nearly flawless ivory skin, beautiful curves covered in a tank top and sweat pants, and a vacant expression.

Shivers ran up and down my spine as I thought of my meeting with the ruler of my home country Panem President Snow. All in all the man was handsome with his curly chocolate brown hair, and strong features that were coupled with an almost hypnotizing charisma. Only one thing threw off the whole image. His snake-like green eyes that were filled with cold uncaring made every other aspect of his appearance inappreciable.

In four months' time I would be working in the rich and luxurious Capitol making special 'house calls for a respective clientele'. Not that Snow had fooled me for a second about what was really going to happen. I was going to be the unpaid hooker for the highest paying slimy Capitol bidder.

Well, unpaid isn't entirely true. By working for Snow's clients I would be earning my loved ones' rights to live. I had learned the hard way what refusing— or even delaying— Snow's agenda meant: death to whoever would hurt me most.

Downstairs a door slammed and brought me out of my deep thought. Peeking into my larger than necessary bedroom, that was in my larger than necessary house, in the nearly pristine District Twelve's Victors Village, I caught sight of the clock on the nightstand that read 3:34 am.

Taftan Mellark was here. Every morning before going to work at his family's Bakery Taftan stopped by to make sure I hadn't done something stupid like try to kill myself. Not that I would or anything, Taftan just worried too much.

Most people were asleep at this hour, but that is what I had Taftan for. Ever since Mentoring the 49th Hunger Games I hadn't been able to sleep on my own without waking up from extremely violent nightmares. I'm not really in the mood to share what they were about, so let's just say they caused me to wake up covered in a sheet of icy sweat, screaming my lungs out, and made it impossible to sleep afterwards. But Taftan always knew how to help me fall asleep again.

A knock sounded on the closed bedroom door, "May I come in?"

Every time my friend visited me he would knock and ask to permission to enter. The first time he did that I couldn't help but think that Taftan would eventually stop asking to come in once he got more comfortable in my house. Nope, apparently as long as Taftan thought there was the remotest possibility that I might be indecent he would knock and ask to come in.

A trait I appreciated.

"Yes you may." I responded in my most awake voice.

Stepping through the door, I took in Taftan's appearance. At five-foot-nine Taftan was three inches taller than me. Taftan had to have the most muscled build in all of District Twelve because of the flour sacks he moved around all of the time at the Bakery. Usually his short blonde hair was well combed, but this morning it was rather disheveled looking. Finally I looked at his comforting blue eyes and noticed the bags under them.

"You _have_ to sleep more, Taftan." I chided as I ran my fingers over the almost bruise colored flesh.

"It's nothing Titania, I'm a big boy— I can handle a little sleep deprivation." Taftan gave me a gentle hug before examining my face, "Now why don't we see if it's possible for _you_ to get some. The bags under your eyes make mine look well rested."

Crossing the cold wood floor to my soft warm bed, I sat down and Taftan sat down next to me. For a few minutes he had me tell him about a happy memory from my childhood. After six months of similar exercises Taftan knew pretty much every inch of my childhood except for the time I spend in the woods. That covered my teenage years and not my childhood anyways so it didn't particularly matter.

Next Taftan would have me climb in between the covers and for a few moments he would tell me a story or two about himself. This morning it was about the time Taftan's older brother Colby had taken his shift for him at the Bakery.

Wait a second.

"You didn't work in the Bakery as a child." I reminded him.

Taftan chuckled and patted my hand, "Colby offered to take a couple hours of my morning shift so that I could get a little shut eye."

"Then why aren't you at home, you know, sleeping?" I teased him lightly.

It was no secret that he came because Taftan was still in love with me and wanted to make sure I was okay before he took any time for himself. When I went and played in the 48th Hunger Games Taftan and I had been together; we may have eventually been married. After the Games however, I was too afraid to be around the people that I cared about. In the Arena everyone I had grown to care for had died. It was just too hard to go back to it being okay to love without the fear of the other person's imminent death so I broke it off with Taftan. Breaking up with someone who loved me unconditionally was inconceivable. Only the fear of him being killed for my mistakes made it possible.

Now, as Taftan leaned against my headboard— claiming he was only going to stay for a few more minutes— and I looked up at his tired handsome face from my head's position in his lap, I knew that I had made the right decision. Taftan and I were good for each other as friends; great for each other as best friends. As a couple though, Taftan and I would not be able to make each other truly happy. Not when I was busy pining for someone else the entire time.

"Is it wrong for me to wish that you had never been Reaped?" Taftan's deep tired voice mumbled.

"I wish it all the time." I replied drowsily.

"Not for the same reasons."

"Not_ all_ the same reasons."

Taftan half-shrugged, "It doesn't matter now does it? Wishes don't come true in Panem."

"My wish for you to get some more sleep would come true if you just let it." I teased with a sleepy giggle.

Taftan just chuckled and sat up, "I should go home to sleep."

"Yeah." I nodded only half conscious.

Gently sliding out from under me, Taftan tucked me under the covers like a little kid, and kissed my forehead, "Goodnight."

"Good morning." I smiled just before drifting off to sleep.

Moments later I sat bolt upright screaming my head off as the nightmares faded into nothingness. I looked at the clock and saw that I had slept for almost four hours instead of the couple of minutes it had felt like. A new record.

Deciding I'd had enough sleep for one night I went downstairs and fried up some eggs. I liked eggs best when they were scrambled with ham and cheese. Sunny-side up used to be my favorite before the Hunger Games, but… it triggered the bad memories to cut into the yolk and have it come spilling out. So scrambled would do.

The front door slammed and I didn't have to ask who had barged into my home without announcing themselves: my boyfriend, Haymitch Abernathy.

It seemed that only someone who could teach a thing or two about being stubborn to a mule was able to withstand all of my issues. The nightmares alone were tough enough to deal with, but I also had strong and random flashbacks to my time in the Arena. They were so potent that one time Haymitch had been cutting up some carrots for a stew and the next thing I knew I had Haymitch pinned to the floor with the blade against his throat. That had been a close call to say the least.

"How are you this morning?" Haymitch asked cautiously as he eyed the hot skillet in my hand and vacant expression.

With a mischievous smile I scooped the eggs onto two plates, "Why don't you find out for yourself?"

Giving me his most debonair smile, Haymitch strode over slowly, kissed me on both cheeks gently, and just when I thought he was going to kiss my lips he planted one right on the tip of my nose.

Swatting his arm, I let my voice drip with mockery, "You shouldn't tease me like that."

"Your sarcastic tone suggests otherwise." Haymitch winked at me as he took one of the plates off the counter for himself.

"Excuse me?" I placed my hands on my hips in fake anger, "What if I made those eggs for someone else?"

"Do you have another extremely handsome boyfriend named Haymitch who visits around this time ever morning? If so, I must give him my sincerest bravo for hiding so long before I knock out his teeth."

Before I could respond Haymitch grabbed a fork and dug in.

Happily frustrated, I sat across the width of the table from him. The table was more like a huge slab of ornately decorated tree which could hold as many as twenty people, but usually just had me and Haymitch. And occasionally a certain Mellark.

"You ought to let your family visit you sometime." Haymitch suggested.

"Please, not this again." I complained.

"Titania, they're the only family you've got." My boyfriend pointed out for the millionth time. Recently he had been in the habit of making me blissfully happy and _then_ bringing up my family. A horrid trick if you ask me.

I dropped my fork onto my plate, "Do you think I don't know that? It's not that I don't love Mother and the boys— because I do. It's just hard after what happened to my Father, okay?"

A couple months ago Father had met his untimely death. To everyone else it was a tragic accident that he was knifed when someone tried to rob the shop late at night. I was the only one who knew that the robber was actually one of the Peacekeepers guarding District Twelve. I was the only one who knew that my Father's 'accident' had been a very purposeful murder ordered by President Snow himself to tell me that there was a price for keeping his valuable Capitol patrons waiting. Haymitch was the only person I had told and I'm not entirely certain he believed— since I hadn't told him about my working for the Capitol soon— that Snow would personally issue orders for my Father's death.

"Titania Fellcrest, you need to stop existing and start living." Haymitch reprimanded me in his best motherly tone.

"Forgive me if I'm unsure how to live after I died." I snapped and instantly regretted the words as Haymitch gave me a look filled with shock and hurt.

At the end of my Hunger Games I had tried to save the only other tribute left, my friend from District Four Evelyn, by sucking the snake venom out of her wound. However I got poisoned as well and it became a competition of who could survive the bloating effects of the venom longest. I only outlasted Evelyn by seconds before I succumbed.

Haymitch had to watch the entire thing with his drunk for a Father next to him telling him to shut up every time he so much as breathed to hard. The experience of watching me die had cut Haymitch to the marrow and every time the subject came up, even a year later, he was a little sensitive about it.

"Your family_ is_ a part of you Titania. They died that day too and you need to let them back in." Haymitch stated matter-of-factly.

Part of me wanted to argue that I had the full capability of keeping my family out of my house in Victors Village. But I knew he was right. For months Haymitch had been trying to reunite me with my family and had made little progress other than annoying me. It was about time that I test my new level of sanity. After a couple long months of waiting I should see my family again. Before Snow's clients break me completely.

"Fine," I conceded thoughtfully, "tomorrow they can come for dinner."

Haymitch choked on his eggs. Rushing around the table and patting his back, I started to freak out. I had gone down the whole suffocate to death thing and Haymitch could go any other way. Just not like that.

"I'm okay." he rasped with a couple fits of coughing, "I was just surprised you said yes."

"Don't scare me like that." Terror leaked into my voice and face.

"I'm sorry." Haymitch apologized sincerely after reading my expression.

As Haymitch moved a stray blonde hair behind my ear I hoped he would kiss me already. Ever since the kiss we shared when we started dating a year ago it was almost as if Haymitch had been avoiding doing it again. I'm not complaining about the other little things he did like squeezing my hand when the pressure of being in a crowd was too much for my hyperactive spacial awareness, or cuddling up with me on the couch and listening to me for hours on my rougher days, or staying with me until I fell asleep on occasion so that I would subconsciously feel safe and fall into a more restful sleep. I just wished that Haymitch wasn't avoiding a kiss like Capitol Fashion.

"Do I have bad breath?" I asked inquisitively.

"Is egg breath bad?" Haymitch chuckled.

"You tell me." I finally stopped waiting for Haymitch to make a move and just kissed the idiot.

A wave of heat sparked through me and I pulled back in surprise. That had definitely been one of the odder sensations of my short seventeen year old life— and that list included suffocating, going to heaven, coming back from the dead, and waking up after a blood-lust induced blackout soaked in crimson head to toe. But this weird on a different level. It was a good weird.

"Finally." Haymitch smirked, "My lips were beginning to feel like a desert labeled 'no crossing this boundary into the incredibly tempting landscape'."

"I was waiting for _you_ to kiss me!" I shot back.

"Oh no, no, no. I learned my lesson last time what kissing you without permission meant: a bruised shoulder and deflated ego." Haymitch shook his head with a chuckle.

"I'm sorry I bruised your shoulder."

"It's okay, I made that part up."

"You're horrible!"

"I know." Haymitch waggled his eyebrows and picked up the plates from the table, "But you love me anyways."

Following him into the kitchen we washed our dishes and put them away. The day had been normal thus far and it stayed that way. It seemed that my life had no problem having a form of regularity while my mind was on the fritz.

During my dinner preparations Taftan came over and helped me bake this type of buttery roll that I had yet to master the flaky without being burnt balance. Haymitch was cutting up trout fillets for the main course and the three of us chatted. The boys got along well enough, but I couldn't help the feeling that Haymitch was pretending to be friendly. The jealous boyfriend wasn't out of Haymitch's broad repertoire.

"So I finally convinced Titania to let her family visit." Haymitch smiled as he made a precise incision into the fish's underside.

"That's great!" Taftan cheered and spun me around in a gigantic hug.

Wheezing slightly from the tightness of the embrace I said, "You should both come— it wouldn't be dinner without you guys."

"Tomorrow night is good with me, what about you Taftan?" Haymitch asked as he beheaded our main course.

"Uh, tomorrow I have to work the afternoon shift to pay Colby back for this morning." Taftan admitted, rubbing his neck, "But I could make it here before dark."

"That's fine." I shrugged and pulled out a pot and pan; handing the latter to Haymitch, I put poured some goat milk into it and began making a creamy sauce to go with the Trout.

The meal was delicious. Usually we all would tuck into the food without any conversation other than the occasional 'mmm' or 'tasty'. Tonight seemed more like a cautious celebration of my agreement to see Mother and the boys than the usual meal to sustain necessary life. We chatted nonstop about preparations for tomorrow— a strangely non-manly thing for Haymitch to participate in— and maybe how to maximize my chances of not succumbing into crowd shock, going crazy, and carving up a person rather than a roast leg from a deer I'd bought from my friend Jack Everdeen this afternoon. Really all we came up with was to have everyone spread out so that it was more like a room full of individuals rather than the much feared crowd. That and not letting me carve the deer leg.

Flopping down onto the couch once the dishes were taken care of, Haymitch and Taftan sat at separate ends of my couch.

"Come here sweetheart." Haymitch waggled his eyebrows and I had to stifle my laughter.

With a cheeky sashay of my hips I sat down next to him then leaned over until my head was on Taftan's thigh, "What's up?"

A light blush colored his pale cheeks but Taftan just tipped his head back and laughed.

Haymitch grabbed my hand and pulled me upright with a properly embarrassed growl, "Get over here."

Curling up to Haymitch's side I felt one of Taftan's large warm hands resting on my ankle. So of course Haymitch got all tensed up when he saw it. Nothing would ruin the night more than having Haymitch attempt to throw Taftan out of my house and then getting tossed out into the snow by me for such obnoxious overprotective-of-your-Victor-girlfriend behavior. Casually, as if a war was not about to erupt on my sofa, I grabbed a remote and turned on the television. Luckily the distraction worked. It just worked a little too well.

The Quarter Quell theme announcement was on tonight. I'd completely forgotten about it entirely. Between the almost war and the anxiety of seeing my family for the first time since my Father's death the next impending Hunger Games had slipped my mind. The three of us tensed as President Snow walked onto stage and a short raven haired Avox girl carried a small box for him. First off he had to get the usual propaganda about how we brought the Hunger Games on ourselves for attacking the mighty and omniscient Capitol and he even told the history of the Quarter Quell. Not that I would ever repeat the tragic true story or the tainted version Snow fed to us.

On cue the Avox opened the wooden box that contained hundreds of yellow envelopes. In these Envelopes were instructions for special Hunger Games twists that would make winning more a game of chance rather than skill. The kids who won the Quarter Quell were never the strongest of the bunch, but the smartest who knew to trust nothing inside the Arena until they had solid proof that it was harmless. Or out of sheer dumb luck.

"All those envelopes." I whimpered.

"Multiplied by twenty-five." One of the boys added in shock.

We sat in silence as President Snow decided the fate of Panem's youth with one nonchalant grab into the box.

"This year there will be twice the number of tributes Reaped to remind the Districts that for every Capitol citizen murdered, two rebels were killed in retribution. One lone Victor will stand at the end of this, the Second Quarter Quell, as a reminder of the Capitol's mercy in sparing the remainder of the traitorous Districts."

The television went dark. One of the boys had turned it off. Apparently I had stood at some point during the announcement. Waves of terror ran through me along with the senseless urge to run away. But run where? As District Twelve's only Victor I was going to be forced to Mentor those four poor souls. There was no rock I could hide under, no ocean I could swim across, no cave deep enough for me to hide from the Hunger Games. I had no place or person to run to.

_Wrong_, my body responded.

Bolting out the front door, much to Haymitch and Taftan's surprise, I sprinted with waves of tears blurring my vision and brutally cold January air stealing whatever heat the theme announcement hadn't ripped from me already. Merchant shops blurred by as I navigated the familiar dark streets that had once been my home. Three times I slipped on patches of ice and landed on my face which only made me run faster and cry harder. A single shop had the lights on downstairs— as I'd been told was a nightly ritual to bring a lost loved one home— and I burst through the door, sobbing and out of breath.

There, just across the worn wooden counter of the shop I had once worked in stood Mother. Before she could react, I ran around the counter and hugged myself to her as tight as was humanly possible.

_Not matter what, you will always have your mother,_ my instincts told me.

"Honey...?" Mother whispered, unsure how to react.

"Mom I... I-I hav-ve t-to train-n them a-all." I sobbed like a small child, "I c-can't d-do it ag-gain."

I began to apologize over and over again for not seeing them, for being the reason Father died— not that they knew or believed it was the truth—, and for every single moment of my life I had not cherished her company and guidance.

"Shhh." Mother wrapped me into a warm protective embrace stroked my hair, "Shhh. It will be okay."

I knew she was wrong but there was something about the way Mother said it that made me believe her. The boys eventually came to investigate the source of so much noise and instantly scrambled down the steps to wrap their arms around their big sister. For the first time since I had come home Victor over a year and a half ago the Fellcrest family gathered together into a group hug. Instead of freaking out and feeling crowded I felt safe.

Like everything _would_ be okay.

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**Oh my. We all know from past experience that Titania's life is most likely never going to be okay, and when she says that it will, things only get worse.**

**I hope you guys like the new characters that I'm bringing in!**


	2. Chapter 2 Never Enough Time

**Next chapter is the Reaping!**

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Warm, albeit itchy, blankets were pulled up to my chin. These were definitely not the blankets from my house in Victors Village. No pillow rested under my head. Another anomaly. Under my back was a hard lumpy mattress that was uncomfortable after so many nights on a cloud-like bed. Several pairs of arms and legs were draped over, touching, or wrapped around my own limbs making it stuffy under the blankets.

I had never felt so at home.

During the last couple of days since the Quarter Quell theme announcement I had been sleeping back at the Shop. Despite the small room and cramped sleeping quarters my brothers had been sleeping with me. I think the boys were afraid that if they weren't there during the night that I would slip away again and this time I would never come back. After getting over the shock of how much I had missed of their lives once I'd come home I doubted I could ever leave again.

Brave young Boreas, now fourteen years old and pushing five foot ten, was beginning to take on the look of a tank I swear. His shoulders were wide and dripping with hard developing muscle. Shaggy blonde hair threatened to hide his currently closed blue eyes and made his manly good looks appear boyish. A statement his girlfriend would agree with.

Shy little Poplin wasn't so shy anymore. Now he was the hot younger brother of the richest girl in District Twelve; which didn't help his easily inflatable thirteen year old ego. If the girls were too young to go after Boreas they swarmed Poplin who looked like a thinner, shorter, and lither version of Boreas but with plenty muscle of his own. I swear if you stretched Poplin width wise at least two inches he would look identical to his older brother.

Then there was the matter of Rubus. The youngest of my brothers and the little boy who used to follow me around because he was afraid that I would be Reaped. The adorable kid who only calmed down when I was near and listened to everything I had to say, even if he didn't understand it all.

Oh had he changed.

Rubus avoided me like a fatal disease and only slept in my room because Boreas and Poplin had begged him to help keep me around. If I was within five feet of him otherwise, Rubus would visibly stiffen at my presence and give me a cold unforgiving stare. Any form of communication from me to him was shot out of the air with Rubus's icy blue dagger eyes.

It killed me— again— to see him like this and know it was my fault. Rubus had seen his only sister, his idol, and his best friend get Reaped, brutally murder other kids, come home completely off her rocker, ignore _his_ need for comfort, avoid him accept at his father's funeral, and come home crying like a big bad wolf in sheep's clothing when she decided that the Victor's life wasn't for her after all. I hated myself too for all I had done so how could I blame Rubus for not wanting me around anymore?

Speaking of Rubus his eyes opened and for a second they were happy. For the merest moment he didn't hate me and was glad to see me home. Then the happiness vanished, replaced instead with the new coldness. Untangling his thin nine year old limbs not so carefully from his brothers' Rubus crept toward my bedroom door.

"I'm sorry." I whispered

Rubus hesitated.

"I don't like it either. I hate what they forced me to do and the choices I made."

The icy glare he shot me was communication enough: no one forced me to do anything. His belief that I could have stayed home and not played the Hunger Games was apparently still intact. I could have refused to go back and I could still refuse to go back this year.

Before he closed the door all the way behind him I had to tell him the truth. I told him about how President Snow would have killed our whole family if I didn't participate in the Hunger Games. That if I refused to Mentor he would do it anyways. Soon I'd have to do extra work— not that I told my ten year old brother that I would be used as a courtesan— for the Capitol or he would also kill the family. Once I finished Rubus quietly closed the door.

It was apparent no amount of explaining would ever be enough.

Winter melted into Spring. The world around me opened up into bright colors and giddiness. I had really missed this last year, the warm smiles of friends and family, the open air, my brothers' birthdays. I started sleeping at my house in Victors Village again so that I could visit my family during the day and return to some quiet during the night. Honestly I couldn't have worked out a better schedule if I tried. Early in the dark of the morning I would see Taftan and the two of us would talk until I fell back asleep, then Haymitch would come over around seven o'clock and we would share breakfast, afterwards I would go to my family's Shop to hang out with the family. Boreas' girlfriend visited the shop on occasion. Secretly I'd been worried that I would scare her off with the quiet power I had developed from playing the Hunger Games. Everything went down a tad differently.

Her name was Faun Nortek. She knew exactly who I was the moment she saw me which explained the enormous hug I received. Only once Faun told me her last name did it click that she was my dead best friend— and District Partner in the 48th Hunger Games— Bay Nortek's cousin. It made me sad that I wasn't able to save Bay every time I looked at her, but I knew that eventually it was something I would have to come to terms with.

Spring began to grow hotter. Summertime was just around the corner and was waiting to bring plentiful warmth to District Twelve. Most importantly the Reaping was drawing ever closer. My nerves grew increasingly raw with each day that brought me closer to the dreaded event. Four tributes. I had to mentor four tributes this year and the possibility of any of them winning was nigh impossible. Not that I would wish being a Victor on someone any more than dying in the Arena. Honestly there were some days I wish that during my Games that the boy from Seven had axed me, the boy from Three had speared me to the meadow floor, that I had drowned in the Flood, or that Evelyn would have knifed me in the heart because then I wouldn't have to keep playing. Last year when I mentored it was like going back into the Hunger Games. Every little happenstance reminded me of what happened to me and sent me into vivid flashbacks. It made me curl up in the corner of my room at night and rock back and forth while I cried as each death repeatedly played out in my head.

So when Reaping day arrived I half hoped that I would get weak tributes that would die quickly with as little pain as possible. At least they wouldn't have to live through it over and over like the Mentors did.

My dress for the event was simple. A rich pale satiny blue that flowed around my knees beautifully and hugged me in all the right places. Standing in my room in Victors Village I admired my mother's handiwork using the full length mirror that doubled as a beautifully crafted closet door.

"You look amazing."

Turning around I met Haymitch's somber gaze with my best fake smile, "Thanks. Mother took a lot of time on the dress— apparently I went from daughter to her best customer overnight."

"Titania you don't have to pretend with me." Haymitch smiled sadly, "You don't always have to be that fake person you show the Capitol. It's Reaping Day, everyone looks better than usual, and no one's happy about it."

I turned back to the mirror as tears pricked my eyes; it was time I told Haymitch about my deal with President Snow because through and through Haymitch knew me the best out of everyone and I would only feel better once I'd gotten it off my chest, "I'm afraid."

"We all are." he said in a soothing tone.

I shook my head, "Not like this. I'm afraid that both of my brothers will be picked, or both you and Sawyer, or any combination of the two. Either way I lose my family and I know it's just Snow's way of saying that..." a lump formed in my throat as I chickened out, "I can't hide."

Haymitch wrapped his arms around me from behind, "Shh. Snow has no reason to come after you Titania. You survived the Arena fair and square. You haven't made him look like a fool or done anything else to give him the motive."

If this had been any other day of the year I would have broken down and cried into his shoulder. But today was Reaping Day. The makeup I'd been forced to wear by special request from President Snow himself would smudge into Haymitch's crisp dove grey shirt. Having a clean appearance on this day had been beaten into our skulls since we could say 'Hunger Games'. It went against that indissoluble law to ruin Haymitch's shirt now with frightened tears. So I put on my brave face and grabbed one of my boyfriend's rough hands instead.

"Let's go."

The walk to the Town Square— which you had to go through to get to the train station in a timely manner— from Victors Village was a short one that over the last two years I had made often. Gea, the former Hunger Games stylist for District Twelve, now owned her own magazine named _Conquor_ that had all the new fashion for the Capitol and all the best gossip for the Hunger Games and often had me model some of the shots for her. Other magazines clamored for my time but I refused. I worked for Gea solely because she had helped me look good enough to get some sponsors during my Games and I owed her my life for that. No one else was going to get a photo shoot from Titania Fellcrest, no sir.

Once in the Square a couple of reporters got photos of Haymitch and me hand in hand. Annoyed at the unwanted attention I directed Haymitch over near the tribute sign in tables where it was nigh impossible to get a good shot through the milling crowd.

"I hate that." I grouched.

"I thought you didn't care about your picture being taken?" Haymitch chuckled. Of course he knew about my modeling job, it was the only job I was allowed to bring other people along on not that I did anyways.

Rolling my eyes I laughed softly, "No, I hate it when they stalk me through the Capitol streets to see if I have any love interests. Every little friendly gesture to a man is seen as 'Titania's newest crush'. It's like they go out of their way to paint me as some love struck school-girl."

Haymitch placed his hands on my hips and gave me a mischievous debonair grin, "Well are you?"

I smacked his shoulder, "This is neither the time nor place for your antics Mr. Abernathy."

Ignoring me, Haymitch forced my chin up, "It's at times like this that I wish I could kiss you."

I bit my lip, "It's times like this when I'm glad you wo—,"

Haymitch's soft lips cut me off causing a flash of intoxicating sparks to dance through my body. His hands slid to my lower back and mine found their way to his solid chest. Then I remembered that the whole teen population of District Twelve was watching this and I pushed Haymitch away.

"When I say it's not the time, I mean it." I snapped as my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Which is why you unconsciously bit your lip." Haymitch replied with amused sarcasm, " Body Language 101: when you talk to someone about kissing them, they will subconsciously bite their lower lip if they want you to." Haymitch smirked, "So I had permission to kiss you because you wanted me to."

"Do you realize you kissed me in front of all the people that I could be Mentoring?" I growled, "Do you know how embarrassing that is?"

"Why should they care? Your love life is nobody's business but yours." Haymitch pointed out.

In a horrible moment I almost threw it in Haymitch's face that President Snow was going to make my love everyone's _business_ before I stopped short, "Why don't you think about why it's embarrassing for me? Then we'll talk."

"Because you're embarrassed of me?"

"No." My heart broke at the sight of his hurt expression, "I'm not embarrassed of you."

"Maybe she ought to be."

To my right stood a very spiteful looking Upper-District boy named Herren Igskwee. The two of us had plenty of friends in common but were only acquaintances in actuality. Herren was a tall twiggy boy that always wore his hair slicked back off of his forehead. Of all the times I had seen him at school the guy was always so cheerful, but at the moment he looked downright murderous.

"Grubby little Seam boy taking advantage of District Twelve's only Victor— you ought to be ashamed of yourself. I'm sure your bad-boy charm reeled her in, but you ought to know better than to put your filthy inbred hands all over her in the Upper-District."

Several other teens were glaring at Haymitch and nodding in agreement with Herren; all of these kids I had known since I could walk and they probably thought they were looking out for me, but in reality they just weren't.

"Who are _you _calling _inbred_?" Haymitch snapped back with equal vehemence, "Last time I checked blonde hair was a recessive gene. So was your mother supposed to be your aunt if things went the natural way?"

My hyperactive special awareness kicked in and I saw Herren's punch before he threw it. Catching his arm I twisted it up behind his back, wrapped my other arm around his neck, and kicked him in the back of the knees which forced him to kneel. Red tinged my vision and for a moment I was going to snap Herren's neck. Lucky I'd gotten better at controlling those wild out of the blue moments of overwhelming instinct.

"Herren, I like you." I whispered in his ear calmly, "Please don't make a scene. The whole Upper-District hates the Seam and the Seam hates them back thing has _got_ to stop." In the back of my mind I was aware of everyone staring and the Peacekeepers drawing their guns, "That boy you were about to punch is my boyfriend because I love him. Do you think— if you consider how quickly I incapacitated you—that any guy could forcibly take advantage of me? Please go sign in for the Reaping."

I released my grip and stood back, offering my hand to help Herren stand up. Gingerly he took it and with very red cheeks went over to sign in. The Peacekeepers around the tables were slowly putting away their weapons. If I had snapped Herren's neck they would have shot me faster than a Capitol escort can say 'Happy Hunger Games'.

"Since when could you fight like that?" Haymitch asked quietly.

"Always." I replied seriously as I smoothed out my dress, "I didn't know it until the wolf mutation two years ago, but it was pretty obvious during the tribute trials that I was a natural when it comes to self-preservation. I broke a Peacekeeper's elbow during the second trial when he tried to choke me."

Haymitch grinned, "You're amazing."

I grinned back, "Go sign in before you get yourself into any real trouble. I have to make my way over to the stage."

With a light peck on my cheek Haymitch joined the line of potential tributes while I made my way around the crowd to District Twelve's Justice Building in front of which sat the stage. Going through a side entrance I saw District Twelve's Mayor casually talking to a couple other District officials. Behind them, chatting with a young man I had not yet met, was Twelve's tribute escort Alvis. His hair was the color of a moonless night and slicked carefully back. When my stormy blue eyes met his I saw they were still the same black color as his hair.

"Titania, you _ought_ to introduce me to your dark haired lover boy sometime. It's _so_ strange that you didn't even mention him last year." Alvis greeted happily as his companion shifted nervously.

I fought off the blush I felt coming on as I realized Alvis probably saw that whole encounter with Herren, "Only if you introduce me to your friend here."

"Oh, of _course_, how silly of me." Alvis sighed, "Titania this is District Twelve's _new _Head Stylist Delphin."

The young man, who had strange metallic grey eyes and cloudy white hair, offered me his right hand to shake, "It's an honor to finally meet the Victor my Aunt Gea has been raving about for the last two years. She was right— you are even more beautiful in person."

"The pleasure is mine." I shook his hand lightly, "I thought that Stylists weren't allowed to come to the Districts."

"If we don't know the right people we can't." Delphin smiled as he released my hand, his prominent cheekbones giving him an aura of pride, "I simply told my good friend the Head Gamemaker that I had to deliver this to you before you arrived at the Capitol."

Delphin produced tomorrow's copy of _Conquer_ magazine and handed it to me. On the front was a picture of last year's Hunger Games Victor from Three— he wasn't all that handsome or ugly but he had a snarky confidence about him that drew people in— and me. He and I were side by side caught mid laugh and from the looks of it we pretty chummy with each other. The main caption read: _The do's and don'ts of post Hunger Games dating_.

Inside I knew was an interview Gea had forced me into. Apparently I was the only one of the few Victors from the outer lying districts who actually had any romance in their life. Last year's Victor Flux Bransick was the other obvious choice seeing as he won most recently and if rumor was correct he had quite the following of girls back in his district.

Not bothering to open it I looked back at Delphin with a believable smile of pleasure, "Thanks. I was wondering if Gea would send me this issue."

"No problem at all; I was actually just looking for any little excuse to come meet you in person before our work together really begins." Delphin's metallic grey eyes took on a dazed star struck look and I realized that they were the color of Titanium.

Great. He was a fan of my dirty work.

Thankfully the Mayor stepped up and told us it was time for the Reaping to begin, which gave me an excuse to leave Delphin's company before things got any more awkward. Every bomb has a silver lining. I had the distinct feeling that the brief reprieve I had been given was all the silver lining I would be getting today. The Mayor, his other officials, and I sat on a row of chairs on the right of the stage where we would watch the proceedings from. Alvis traipsed over to the microphone with his usual greasy yet genuine enthusiasm.

"Welcome one and all to District Twelve's Reaping for this year's _very_ exciting Quarter Quell!" Alvis announced.

Ignoring the usual Capitol propaganda video that they fed us every year, I searched the crowd behind the tribute pools for a face that never ceased to ease my nerves. There, off to the right of the tributes as close as he could get to the stage, was Taftan. As per usual for Reaping Days Taftan's hair was well combed and he looked dashing to say the least in his black vest, white button down, and dark grey slacks. He smiled reassuringly at me and I instantly felt calmer.

Alvis announced the first girl, "Maysilee Donner."

Too afraid that if I looked away from Taftan for longer than a couple seconds, I glanced at the girl long enough to gather she was pretty and from the Upper-District, then returned my gaze to Taftan.

When Alvis read the next slip I repeated the process. Briare Morningway was very pretty and also from the Upper-District.

Alvis went over to the boys name bowl as I finally broke eye contact with Taftan and searched for my family. It was easy to spot Sawyer, Faun— who had become like a sister to me over the last few months— over with the fifteen year old girls, Poplin, and Boreas, but Haymitch was nowhere to be seen. It was like he was hiding from me on purpose.

"Haymitch Abernathy."

Unsure I had heard Alvis correctly I leaned over to the Mayor, "Who did he just call?"

"Haymitch Abernathy." He repeated the name that obviously meant nothing to him.

There he was, his back turned to me on stage as he he stood next to Alvis. This couldn't be happening. What were the chances of a Victor's boyfriend getting Reaped? Practically none! So how on earth did he...

Suddenly it clicked that Haymitch had been picked specifically to remind me what would happen if I kept the Capitol waiting for my services or denied them altogether. It was _my_ fault Haymitch was up there. Snow did this to keep me in line and sending off the only guy in Panem who could make me truly happy to die was the way Snow decided to go about it. I was so absorbed in my self-loathing that the Mayor had to give my shoulder a little shake when it was time to leave the stage. All the cameras were off. I had missed the name of the last tribute, but I was a little too overwhelmed to care all that much.

As I left the stage I felt completely numb inside. The same numbness I had felt saying goodbye to my family before the 48th Games, that crushed me after Bay's death, the very feeling that killed me all over again when Father had been killed. That same numbness had haunted me for two years and I understood by now that it was my body's inability to feel the level of emotional pain I was in. It was the feeling I always got when someone was going to die.

This time it was Haymitch's turn.

* * *

**If you guys could pick actors to play the cast of "The Other Victor" who would you pick?**

**Not every single character obviously, but the main group who are:**

**Titania Fellcrest**

**Haymitch Abernathy**

**Taftan Mellark**

**Bay Nortek**

**Evelyn**

**Quinn**

**Wren Fernbank**

**Hock**

**Let me know who you would choose! Next time I post I'll tell you who my personal picks are at the end of the chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3 Frustration

**Sorry I've only been able to post once a week- job hunting takes priority number one on my list right now and that leaves a lot less time for writing.**

* * *

"Where do you think you're going?" a Peacekeeper growled from behind me.

My eyes stung with forming tears as I stopped feet from the side exit of the Justice Building. Last year I had been given a few precious moments to say goodbye and unless the other Mentors were lying they were allowed to do so as well. An overwhelming urge to smash the Peacekeeper's face with the door washed over me. I almost did it too. It would have made me feel a bit better to crack his helmet and knock him onto his butt in front of his coworkers. However, that would get Haymitch killed for sure; which would make me feel worse.

"Saying goodbye." I glared through the tears while my fists clenched so hard they began to vibrate at my sides.

"The President gave us strict orders that you are not to leave the Justice Building until the Tributes are ready to be moved to the train station." he stated in a controlled monotone voice.

No goodbyes this year, not for me. President Snow must be afraid that I'll try to run off now that I have a one in one billion chance of having a happy ending. My happy ending meant I didn't have Haymitch for a few days, a few months, or a few short years. I, Titania Fellcrest, wanted Haymitch Abernathy for the rest of eternity. Only that would satisfy the strange urge I had to never leave his side.

Nonchalantly I walked past the Peacekeeper back to the lobby where the families and friends of the Tributes waited for their three minutes to say goodbye. The Apothecary's only daughter, my friend Silene, was walking out of one of the four rooms guarded by Peacekeepers. Suddenly it clicked that Maysilee Donnor— one of my new Tributes— was Silene's best friend.

"How are you holding up?" I asked gently.

"Better than I'm sure you are." Silene sniffled, "I know how you feel about Haymitch. You must be going crazy with worry."

"The pre-Games Titania wants to curl up in the corner and bawl her eyes out, but the new Titania... you know the violent, crazy one? She wants to rip out those Peacekeepers jugulars with her teeth." I admitted quietly.

"So you're kinda on the fence between the two right now, huh?" Silene observed with a sad and unnerved smile.

Inside I was shocked. That is exactly what was going on inside me. I was halfway in between crazy Titania and the old Titania. It was the only way I could be sane and not be the weak girl I used to be. Sure the old Titania wasn't completely useless, she was smart, agile, and charming, but the old Titania was the girl who cried and yelped at every little surprise. The crazy Titania was all of those first three things and a lethal killing machine that didn't feel anything except for burning rage and bloodlust. If I sat on the fence that separated the two I could be sane and not be a complete baby. The hard part was not falling off the fence when something unexpected happened. Like my boyfriend getting Reaped.

"Yeah." I nodded sadly.

"If Haymitch doesn't make it..." Silene hesitated as a fresh bout of tears trickled down her face, "will please do whatever you can for Maysilee?"

I took in a shaky breath, "Of course. Can you do something for me too?"

"Sure." Silene agreed.

"Can you say goodbye to my family and Taftan Mellark for me?" I asked on the verge of tears myself.

She looked confused but simply consented, "I'll see you in a month."

"See you then." I whispered as Silene left the Justice Building.

After that I felt the swings between old Titania and crazy Titania increasing in strength. It was like my consciousness was a rope strung over the fence and the two Titania's had a hold on both ends. If one started to pull harder than the other I was on that side. Both wanted what they thought was best for me but my consciousness knew that completely giving into either wouldn't be good. Both curling up in the corner as a ball of tears and snapping some necks would make me look unfit to be out and about let alone Mentor. As much as I didn't want to Mentor Haymitch I knew that I didn't trust his life with anyone else.

There were only two people who could calm down my swings in personality so that I was just plain Titania. Of course they were Haymitch and Taftan. It was obvious that I wasn't going to be allowed to see Taftan, but maybe I could say goodbye to Haymitch. Maybe I'd grown wings and fly over the mountains to kill President Snow too, but I wasn't getting my hopes up.

Walking over to the first of the doors I met the Peacekeeper's frosty glare with confidence, they might keep me hostage here in the Justice Building, but they couldn't hurt me any, "Which tribute is in here?"

"Briare Morningway." He replied in a sharp tone.

As I was soon told the second door was for the Tribute that I had missed the Reaping of, whose name was Slade Leavener, I moved on. The third door was Maysilee's so Haymitch absolutely had to be in the room on the end.

When I tried to maneuver around the Peacekeeper keeping watch at the door he grabbed my shoulder and spun me around, "Mentors are not allowed to say goodbye to the Tributes. Please take a seat and wait for the goodbyes to finish."

"Please, he's my boyfriend." I whispered.

"Rules are rules, Miss Fellcrest." He replied coolly, almost as if he knew exactly who Haymitch was to me and why he was here.

For a horrible moment I saw the Peacekeeper lying on the floor with blood pooling onto the black marble flooring while I sat talking to Haymitch in the room beyond. A shard of a vase near me stuck straight up out of the Peacekeeper's chest from a lethal angle. Flecks of blood were all over my dress, hands, and face. Then the moment passed just as quickly as it had come on and I backed away from him with my hands up in surrender.

Not killing people when I got the rushes of protective instinct or emotional floods of rage was one of the hardest parts of being a Victor. Few of the other Mentors had those. Probably because they couldn't hardly see straight or be conscious for long once they were high on whatever drugs or alcohols they lost their souls in. They would just drown their emotions until they felt nothing at all. I was starting to wonder if they would have my same problems too if they didn't self-medicate. Oh, well. No way to find out now.

Soon the two Peacekeepers grabbed my arms as the tributes were led out of their rooms. They were lined up in front of me. It took everything I had to not look at Haymitch. I knew that if I looked at Haymitch I would do whatever it took to make my way over to him and wrap my arms around him. Instead I started to count the number of rich wooden planks on the ceiling. The Peacekeepers must have been waiting for authorization to move because the one holding me on my right side cocked his head to the left a little then barked the order to march to the train station by the time I counted two-hundred and thirty-five planks.

Their grip tightened on me as we approached the platform. I was shoved onto the train seconds before the cameras were due to become live. No one caught even the slightest glimpse of me. The crowd around the platform waved to the tributes but didn't cheer. Everyone knew that this year was a tragedy. Four of their own were being thrown into the lion's den with no hopes of returning. If I was honest there was a chance that one of them might come home at the end of this nightmare.

The odds were just really, _really_, not in their favor.

Moodily I made my way over to the compartment that was designated for District Twelve's female Mentor. Despite that it had been sitting unused for forty-seven years the room had no dust and looked as good as new. A luxurious welcoming bed, one of those strange touch-to-open dressers, a closet for evening wear, a bathroom that was equipped with every piece, odd, and end a girl could need, and two large windows that I was told by one of the train attendants could withstand the force of a hovercraft missile if necessary. The whole place was various shades of quiet greens and blues that somehow made me feel more normal instead of bordering the edges of hysteria and insanity.

Knowing that Alvis would be showing the Tributes to their rooms, I quickly showered to strip the disgusting feeling of make-up from my body. Really it had only been on my face but the thick cloying feeling the make-up gave me was all over my skin. Once I had showered most of it away I put on a pair of grey trousers and a pale pink blouse that weren't overly Capitol. Wandering over to the dining car I found Alvis who sat at the table holding a glass of wine and was already pinching the bridge of his nose from stress.

He looked up and sighed, "I should have known that your suitor would act like that."

I laughed lightly, "What did Haymitch do?"

"Let's just understand I now realize where you get your sense of humor from." Alvis half-smiled.

I ordered some of this pale orange sparkling liquid— last year Alvis introduced it to me calling it 'the non-alcoholic adult beverage'— and waited patiently across the length of the table from Alvis for the Tributes to make their way over for dinner. There was no stopping the smile that crept up onto my face. Haymitch was indeed the source of most my humor.

The girls showed up together and I gestured for them to sit in one of the four empty chairs, two on each side of the table, "Dinner will be in a few moments."

The younger girl Briare sat in the seat directly to my right and Maysilee sat on her other side. Motioning to one of the waiters in the corner I ordered the girls some tea that helped calm the nerves. The young man quickly scrambled out of the room blushing with his whole face.

"Do they all do that when you talk to them?" Maysilee asked with hints of disgust evident in her pretty face. Blonde hair hung in soft waves around her face in a way that reminded me of myself when I was Reaped two years ago.

"Unfortunately." I laughed quietly and took a sip of my drink.

"_Titania_." Alvis chastized with a chuckle, "You should learn to _enjoy_ this attention; with your face the Capitol boys won't _ever_ leave you alone."

I giggled, "Hopefully I'll be an ugly hag in a few years then."

Alvis knew this was a-typical for me to say and quietly chuckled but Briare and Maysilee looked absolutely shocked.

Moments after the girl's received their drinks a tall young man who could only be Slade Leavener walked in. He didn't have quite dark enough skin or grey enough eyes to be from the Seam. Yet he was on the darker side of Middle-District. One of his parents must have been Middle-District and the other from the Seam for him to look like that. Not that it mattered where he came from; in a month he'd be dead either way.

"Take a seat." I offered.

"At least there's one good seat left." Slade grinned flirtatiously as he sat next to me.

I gave him a glare so icy that I swear I could see his breath, then barked out a short laugh, "I seem to have lost any desire to eat whatsoever."

"Titania." Alvis reprimanded softly.

"If he has the sheer idiocy to flirt with me then he can learn to handle what I dish out." I replied with a tight lipped smile.

There was a split-second of blissful silence.

"Your girl's got claws." Slade laughed and placed one of his large hands suspiciously close to mine.

Alvis seemed less than pleased about my being referred to as 'his girl' but let it slide. I wanted to ask Alvis if it actually was Slade that made him stressed, but I knew that it had to be Haymitch; only my boyfriend could break a man as disciplined as Alvis so quickly. The waiters brought in the appetizer and it was instantly evident that if I didn't talk to these Tributes now now I would never get a chance. They would all be too busy stuffing themselves to the brim with the incomparably delicious Capitol foods once the main course was set.

"How old are you three?" I asked, not even touching my food.

"I'm fourteen years old."Briare answered quickly with a brilliant smile.

"I'm sixteen." Maysilee muttered just loudly enough for me to catch.

"I might be a year older, but I'll treat that lonely heart of yours right." Slade's eyes took on what I'm sure was supposed to be a seductive look but it just made me like him less.

Alvis harrumphed, "She's as lonely as a rabbit in mating season."

The door opened and a worried Haymitch came in. He looked at the five of us sitting awkwardly at the table and sighed in what sounded like a cross between relief and resignation. In a very non-Haymitch moment he trudged over to the table and plopped down in the empty seat between Slade and Maysilee. I wanted to go wrap my arms around his shoulders to make him feel better, but I figured that wasn't what he needed right now.

"What about you, young man?" Alvis inquired absently, "How old are you?"

"He's sixteen." I muttered to myself.

"Well that's weird." Briare giggled; she had apparently heard me, "Fourteen, sixteen, sixteen, and eighteen. All even numbers."

"What about you Titania, how old are you?" Maysilee asked indifferently.

"Seventeen." I plucked a roll from one of the many platters on the table and thickly slathered on some blueish gravy sauce.

"The odd ball." Alvis smiled as he took another sip from his wine glass.

Shrugging I bit into the roll which instantly melted in my mouth. The others were wolfing down their appetizers in between the idle chatter. Except for Haymitch who ate silently and kept his eyes on his plate. Never in the five years I had known my boyfriend had I seen him so lackluster. Not that I blamed him. A crippling wave of nausea hit as the full weight of today's events settled.

Haymitch was going to play in the Hunger Games. More than likely he would be brutally murdered within those first extremely crucial twelve hours. Because I was his Mentor I would have to watch every agonizing second of his death. Surely President Snow would make it all the talk of the Capitol just to force me to talk to Sponsors about it and relive the moment over and over again to make sure I knew what delaying his plan meant.

Setting my unfinished roll down on my plate I wiped my mouth with the silky white napkin available, "You know what? I'm not that hungry."

Alvis sighed deeply, "Can you at _least_ stay until dinner is finished? Your Tributes could use a little advise on winning."

Knowing that i couldn't sit here for a moment longer in the same room as Haymitch who acted like the walking dead, I stood, "When you all finish with dinner please come to the lounge— then we'll talk Hunger Games."

They simply nodded to my request as all of their mouths were full with the main course that had just been laid out before them. In a kind gesture an older waiter handed me a mug full of hot chocolate and gave me a sad smile. I remembered him doing this last year as well. Once I decided that I couldn't eat he would hand me a steaming mug full of caramel hot chocolate. It was honestly the most genuine gesture of kindness anyone who worked for the Capitol had ever done for me.

Moving on to the lounge I sat on the couch and thought of the advice I should probably give the tributes. It was hard. All I wanted to do was ignore the other Tributes and focus on Haymitch. Even though I had that philosophy that dying in the Arena was better than surviving it, I needed Haymitch to survive. If he didn't I would never have another restful moment. Haymitch wasn't the only person who mattered in my life, he was just the person who knew me inside and out, up and down, all around, and had me wrapped around his finger so tightly I could never get away if I wanted to. Not that it frightened me to feel that way; Haymitch was just as wrapped around my finger as I was around his. Someday I wanted to marry him.

Shaking my head I mentally returned to the train. My focus was needed here and now not on a far off day that would never happen. Snow had made sure of that when he ordered for Haymitch to be Reaped.

Gingerly thinking over what happened in my Games I almost instantly came across the perfect piece of advice. Two simple words that Bay Nortek had mouthed to me in the ten second countdown before the forty-eighth Hunger Games. It was perfect. Another bit of advice popped into my head that I hadn't expected but ended up being the best bit of social advice I could give for once the Tributes were in the Arena.

Nearly an hour later Alvis shooed Maysilee, Slade, Haymitch, and Briare into the lounge. I stood and gestured for them to sit down. Haymitch sat on the couch closest to me, Maysilee sat next to him, and Briare stuck close to her, leaving Slade to sit with Alvis on the other couch.

"Interesting." I mused.

"What?" Briare asked, curious and intent on anything I would say next.

"Interesting that Maysilee didn't know where to sit until Haymitch did. Also that you continue to stick close to Maysilee." I observed.

Maysilee looked like she wanted to argue but kept quiet.

"I want you guys to watch for that in other tributes at the Capitol. This year Mentors are allowed to work personally with their own Tributes down in the Training Center seeing as there are twice the number of Tributes and it will be twice as difficult to keep you all from killing each other before the Games start, but I'm not there to watch your competition for you. If you see that someone is kind of lost until someone else make a decision and they copy that other person, you know that other person will most likely end up leading an alliance."

"So Haymitch will lead an alliance with me and Briare." Maysilee questioned doubtfully.

"If you both keep following him around, yes." I frowned in deep thought.

"Do you have any _real_ advice for us?" she growled, unsure I was helping her chances of surviving at all, "Or can we all just go get some sleep?"

I shook my head in frustration, "You can sleep when the Capitol sends you back to District Twelve in a wooden box. I _won_ the Hunger Games. You want a shot at going home alive? Sit down, shut up, and listen."

They stared at me quietly. Alvis gave me a warning look that I was taking it a little far and my manners were becoming quite poor. Too bad for him I didn't particularly care about that right now.

"I've only got two key pieces of advice: either be an Alpha or alone—"

Briare raised her hand like this was a classroom back home, "What do you mean be an Alpha?"

"I mean lead an alliance."

"Isn't that risky?" Slade smirked with a wink.

"Completely." I ignored his flirting and nodded, "If there is mutiny or someone in your alliance just gets tired of you calling the shots they will honestly slit your throat while your asleep."

"So why would you bother leading? Why not just be the person following someone else?" Maysilee challenged.

"No one sponsors followers." I stated bluntly and folded my arms in annoyance, "Only the Leader gets sponsors because they are the most likely to survive the Hunger Games. Which brings me back around to my second piece of advice."

No one spoke as they waited.

"Stay alive."

* * *

**The joke lives on! Ahh. I finally got to pass on Bay's advice on to Haymitch who gives it to Katniss and Peeta. You have no idea how long I have been waiting to do that actually.**

**Anyways, I told you guys I would give you the actors/actresses I would pick for the cast of "The Victor Saga".**

**Skyler Samuels as Titania Fellcrest**

**Graham Phillips as Haymitch Abernathy**

**Ed Speleers as Taftan Mellark**

**Douglas Booth as Bay Nortek**

**Scarlett Johansson as Evelyn**

**Jeremy Irvine as Quinn**

**Dakota Hood as Wren**

**Dominic Scott as Hock**

**I actually really got into picking the cast and I have plenty more cast members picked such as the rest of the Fellcrest Family, Abernathy Family, and Colby Mellark in my spare time. Soon I might end up with a full cast for "The Other Victor"!**

**Let me know what you think of my picks!**


	4. Chapter 4 And Then There Were Seven

**Sorry it's been so long since I posted last— I feel so embarrassed.**

* * *

"You're kidding me."

Taftan arched an eyebrow as he sat staring at me from the bed in my room. Not even a hologram or something even crazier that the Capitol could cook up; Taftan 'the baker's boy' Mellark was on the train headed to the Capitol, seated on the edge of my bed, practically gaping at me as I told him everything that had happened so far that day. He had already confessed to stealing a waiter's uniform while the train was in District Twelve and finding a man's Capitol ID card that Taftan could pass as himself before stowing away. All to come with me to the Capitol and make sure I was okay.

Grateful to have my best friend with me, I paced agitatedly back and forth across my compartment, "No I'm not kidding. I really said 'stay alive'."

"Well, you're the Mentor." Taftan smiled easily.

Between Taftan and I was this incredibly uncomplicated friendship that never ceased to make me feel a little bit more myself. Those pink lips of his would stretch into a friendly grin and my own would mirror them. When Taftan was happy, sad, excited, or upset I tended to feel the same way. I honestly couldn't explain it if I tried, but being friends with Taftan was easier than thought and I didn't want anything to ruin it.

So of course I smiled back, "Tell them that. Slade is just so slimy and he doesn't really care what I have to say about the Hunger Games because he has it all figured out. Then Maysilee challenges _everything_! I'm pretty sure she thinks the odds of me telling her the truth are worse than her chances of becoming this year's Victor."

"Don't take it too hard— if I remember correctly, _someone_ didn't take advice from her _escort _very well when she played the Hunger Games." Taftan chuckled.

"That's the problem." I fumed, although I wasn't really angry anymore, "Maysilee and I are too much alike. Both of us are wary of help and think we already know what's best before we completely understand the problem. I have no idea how to convince her that she has no clue what she's in for!"

"Do you?" When I started to argue Taftan held up a finger, "Think for a second. Do you really have a clue what's going to happen to her or any of the others? There are more tributes this year which means fewer angles to play and less sponsors per tribute."

"You're right." I sighed and sat next to him on the bed, "Playing the Hunger Games with twenty-three other people is hard enough. There is only so much I can do for these kids and odds are that the little I can do won't be anywhere near enough."

Taftan patted my shoulder, "Don't worry, you'll do your best. That's all you can give."

Leaning back until I lay on my bed with my feet still touching the floor, I stared at the ceiling, "No one understands. I have to give more than my best to the Hunger Games. It's a cold and calculating beast that lays a trail of poison wherever it walks and most people have to merely deal with its horrid presence. But some people it stalks once it has them in its little bubble and drives them insane before stealing their lives. I'm not either of those people. The beast took my life with its poison and its master decided that death was too good for me. No, he had to make me suffer. He had to make me squirm under his precious monster's thumb. The master had to have my _soul_ in order to be happy withhis good work."

Gently Taftan took one of my small hands and laced his fingers with mine, "Titania I know you're not telling me something. The only reason I haven't gotten down on my knees and begged you to tell me is because I want you to say it when you're ready to. Whether that's tomorrow, a week from today, or even decades from now, I don't care. Just know that I am here whenever you're ready."

Meeting his soft blue gaze I realized that I did want to tell Taftan about what Snow was going to force me to do. The only problem was that I had no idea how to begin that delicate conversation. Maybe being delicate was the problem.

Bluntly I stated, "Snow is forcing me to become a call girl in trade for my family's lives."

It was weird to watch Taftan's reaction to my news. First his blue eyes grew wider than saucers with utter shock. Then his face contorted with an emotion I had never seen before on his face: pure unobstructed rage. Taftan's grip remained loose on my hand but the rest of his muscled body was tensed and shaking.

After a few anxious moments Taftan calmed down. His expression turned from rage into empathetic pain and worry. Slowly, and with the utmost care, Taftan scooped me up off the bed onto his lap and held me close. For a brief moment the two Titania's inside of me warred over whether to shove Taftan away or to break down in his arms and cry. The second option won out.

Curling up into my best friend's chest I cried the hardest I had since the night after my Father's funeral. Before that moment the full weight of what I had in store for me hadn't hit and suddenly it all came rushing in like a torrent of horror. There was no more beating around the bush. In a month I would be making love to strangers in order to earn my family's safeguarding. I was going to be a whore, a prostitute, a slut, a mistress, a cat-around; the list of names went on and on. I had to be all of them in order to be the life preserver that kept my family afloat.

"I can't believe how strong you are." Taftan whispered through the pain he felt for me.

Racking sobs choked me as I shook my head against his shoulder, "I-I-I'm we-eak."

"No." Taftan contradicted gently yet firmly as he cradled my face in his hands and wiped away the tears from my cheeks, "A weak girl would have refused the President. Or she would have run away from Panem, leaving those she cared for to suffer President Snow's wrath. You are strong because you did the hard thing and stayed to endure his torments in order to save someone else's life. You are strong because you saved me."

Sniffling, I half-smiled, "I don't feel very strong."

Enveloping me in a tight hug Taftan kissed the top of my blonde head, "Don't you know that titanium has the highest strength to weight ratio? What was it your Father said about that before the forty-seventh Reaping?"

"I have the highest strength to good ratio that Panem has never seen." I gave him my best brave face and wiped the water-works from my stormy eyes.

"Snow saw how strong you are. If he wouldn't have tried to break that, then you might have been able to prosper where other warriors have failed." Taftan murmured into my hair.

I didn't need to ask in order to know what my best friend was getting at: _if Snow didn't try to break you, then you might have been so inclined to use your new publicity to lead a successful rebellion against him._

Setting me on the edge of my bed, Taftan stood and adjusted his black waiter's coat, "I should probably head to my sleeping quarters."

Wiping the rest of the tears from my face, I nodded, "Sure."

Stopping with his hand on the doorknob, Taftan looked back at me, "Will you be okay?"

"Will I ever be okay?" I laughed halfheartedly.

Shaking his head while a sad smile sat on his lips, Taftan chuckled, "You know what I meant."

The second genuine smile of the day plopped onto my face, "I'll be fine."

With a soft click the door closed behind my best friend. It had taken me nearly eight months to admit that Taftan was indeed one of my best friends in this world. For some reason I had a hard time keeping my best friends— whether that meant keeping them alive or simply in my life it didn't matter— because they all left me. Being Titania Fellcrest's best friend was like some kind of taboo. Anyone who was that close to me wouldn't remain so for long.

Flopping down onto my pillows, I stared at the night sky colored ceiling and thought about the three and a half people who had been my best friends.

The half I should explain. A girl in my alliance from the Forty-eighth Hunger Games Wren Fernbank would represent that half. I'm not saying that Wren was a flaky friend or anything, she was just something else to me that was more than a friend. Wren had been the sister I'd never had. Without a doubt I loved my brothers Boreas, Poplin, and Rubus, but there was just something entirely different about having a sister. Neither of us were embarrassed by tears or harassed each other when we did something stupid. Then Wren was attacked by a flock of white bird muttations and despite my greatest efforts, I was unable to save her; there are no words to describe the feelings that overwhelm you upon losing the one thing you secretly craved as a child. Plainly though, it sucked.

Of course Bay Nortek had been probably the best of all the best friends I had. Not in the sense that he and I knew every intimate detail of each other's lives and could hardly survive a day without each other, but in the way we had both cared for each other enough to put our personal survival after the other person. We trusted one another so explicitly that when the time came to put my life on the line for him there was no doubt in my mind that he was worth the sacrifice. Because of Bay I had been unafraid of death when it stared me in the face. He made me stronger and drove my compassion for others to new lengths during the month I knew him. When Bay died he ripped away some part of the old Titania that I'm not sure I'll ever get back. Bay took the old Titania's innocent view of the world with him onto the white realm beyond death where shadows apparently didn't exist.

The other two best friends were people who always seemed to be in the forefront of my mind. Taftan and Haymitch. Weeks ago Haymitch had mentioned that I had dragged him into the last thing on this planet he had ever wanted to be a part of: a love triangle with Taftan Mellark. I then promplty corrected him that while I loved a lot of people— none of them should worry him about where loyalty lies— and confessed to Haymitch that he was the only person on this planet I wanted to marry and grow old with. Not Taftan, Colby, the whole male population of District Twelve that dropped their jaws whenever I entered a room, or the Capitol boys who swooned at the sight of their 'warrior princess' made me feel that way.

That was that. Nothing would change the fact that I loved Haymitch first and foremost. I chose to break the promise to never forgive Haymitch for walking away from our friendship years ago and that was a big deal for me. My brothers, my father, my grandfather, and his father before him had all never broken a single promise in their lives. At a very young age I swore that I would be just a honorable in my promises; now all I felt was a sense of peace as I thought about breaking that one promise to Haymitch. He was worth breaking a promise that I never should have made.

Tiny shafts of sunlight streamed down from the windows above my head and I sat upright. It couldn't be morning already could it? Looking through the window I saw that the sun was rising over the gentle hills surrounding the train. Had I really laid in my bed all night thinking about what I had? Suddenly I realized that everything outside was still. The train must be stopping for fuel before continuing on it's journey.

Changing into the first piece of clothing I got my hands on, I dashed excitedly to the train doors and snuck onto the platform. The misty morning air chilled my bare arms and lower legs that the white cotton dress didn't cover yet it made me feel more alive than ever. Legs pumping as hard as they could down the platform I winced as my bare feet slapped the cement but didn't slow down until the cement was replaced by dewy soft green grass. A surprising burst of happiness washed over me. Twirling like a five year old girl with my arms outspread and giggling at the sweet sensation the grass gave as it tickled my toes and ankles. For a wonderful moment I was free.

"What are you _doing_?" someone asked.

When I stopped spinning I saw Maysilee Donnor standing in her bare feet and two piece green pajamas at the edge of the platform.

"Living." I smiled and dragged her out onto the grass, "Try it. Close your eyes and just tune everything out for a minute."

Despite her distrustful expression Maysilee closed her eyes as I instructed.

"Hold out your arms."

She complied.

"Now spin." I grabbed one of her hands and twirled her on the spot.

"This is silly." Maysilee protested with a quiet giggle.

"But it's fun." I grinned and danced around in the fog pretending I was dancing on the clouds.

Maysilee joined me after a slight hesitation.

All too soon the train whistle sounded and the two of us grudgingly scrambled on board before any Peacekeepers could notice the two of us weren't on the train. The door closed behind the two of us with a soft thud just as another door to our right hissed open. Four armed Peacekeepers stood behind it.

They aimed their guns at our hearts and heads. Without thinking I stepped out in front of Maysilee. The gaiety from just moments before was replaced by something more bestial than human. A sound crept out of my throat that I had never made in my life: a feral and completely animal growl starting low in my chest and ripping up through my bared teeth. The temperature of the room rose until it burned my skin and tinged my vision red. Down at my sides my usually gentle fingers were curved like talons.

"_Excuse_ me young man, I thought the fancy Academy thought you better than to point that little stick of yours around all willy-nilly." Alvis said from somewhere behind me.

"My pardon." One of the Peacekeepers spat, "Call off—"

"_Young man_." Alvis interrupted, "If you are about to tell me to call off an _easily_ offended lady with her own free will and a short temper, I suggest you not."

Lowering their weapons, the Peacekeepers backed away so that the door could close between Maysilee, Alvis, myself and them. The one who spoke earlier said one last thing before the door shut between us completely.

"Be careful who you threaten, Miss Fellcrest."

Deciding the Peacekeepers weren't an immediate danger to us I turned and ushered a confused Maysilee on to the dining car with a smile. The whole time Alvis reprimanded me for my recklessness, but I wasn't really listening. All I wanted was a nice and simple breakfast, a cup of hot chocolate, and a morning alone with Haymitch. Not that I'd get the last part. Where I was the tributes were bound to follow like little ducklings follow their mother.

Once all six of us were seated around the table, Maysilee finally asked the question that had been bothering her, "Why did you shield me? I'll be dead in a month anyways."

"Maybe I'm not the shallow, fickle, and deadly person the Capitol paints me out to be." I smiled and took a bite out of the best bacon I'd ever had the pleasure of eating, "There's more to me than meets the eye Maysilee Donnor."

Briare raised her hand excitedly to grab my attention, "Oh, but you are deadly! You're my favorite Victor! Strong, fast, smart, pretty— Titania you are a role model for younger tributes all over Panem!"

I sat and thought about that for a moment. Twelve to Fifteen year old potential female tributes all over Panem thought I was a worthy person to model their lives after. Abruptly I started laughing. The idea that a bipolar serial killing girl was a role model was just plain ridiculous! Surely these girls could find someone more worthy to be their example than me.

"What's so funny?" Briare's innocently pretty face pouted.

"I'm your role model?" I laughed all the harder, "Briare, pick someone who hasn't murdered other kids."

"You talk like _you_ are a kid still." Alvis pointed out.

"Kids don't have curves like those." Slade gave me a smoldering look that only made me laugh impossibly harder.

After hiccuping to a stop I smiled, "I'm _seventeen_— I _am_ a kid." Then I talked to the group as a whole in a somber tone, "You're all kids. But even though you've hardly lived at all, these people are going to give you a new face, play dress up with you, make you feel like a star, get you a shot a being famous, and then they stick you out in the middle of nowhere to kill a bunch of other kids who are just as lost and afraid as you are. And you know why they do it? Because it keeps the District fighting with one another so that they can't band together like the idiots did back in the Dark Days."

"Titania." Alvis said in a warning tone, "That's quite enough."

"Enough is the whole story Alvis. For now it will merely do."

After a short silence, Maysilee spoke up, "If we win do we end up as crazy as you?"

Smiling sadly shook my head negatively, "It all depends on how you play their game."

Briefly there was silence.

"We'll be arriving in the Capitol this afternoon. Official training starts tomorrow, but I'm hoping to get a feel for your style before the other tributes see what you've got." I announced as I toyed with the food on my plate.

None of them voiced it but I could feel a single word burning in each of the Tributes whirring minds: _How?_

"Just a couple of physical exercises nothing too serious." I explained as patiently and soothingly as possible.

Looking across the table at Alvis I gave him my this-is-going-to-take-more-time-than-we-have face. Nodding slightly in agreement Alvis took another bite out of some sort of breakfast casserole that appeared to be quite delicious. Forcing down another bite of my comparatively savory eggs I glanced out the window at the now clear blue sky and green rolling hills. In District Twelve we didn't really have open spaces like this. Whatever land didn't have houses on it was full of markets or other important buildings. The only plant life we had was a small flower shop and the dead grass that stubbornly stayed an ugly brown color all year long. Seeing so much green outside the train was kind of fantastic.

"... they win?" The other's must have been talking but I only caught that little snippet.

"Hmm?"

Maysilee nearly choked on her eggs as she laughed, "Briare asked what Victors do after they win the Hunger Games?"

"It depends— what would you do with all that money, food, and fame?" Careful not to give away that most Victors were drug addicts who only cleaned up once a year for the Hunger Games, I decided it would be safer to redirect the question.

"I would buy lots of dresses," Briare began.

"And shoes." Maysilee added thoughtfully.

Briare nodded excitedly, "So that I had one outfit for each day of the year. I would buy more food than I could eat and distribute it throughout the District so no one would be hungry. Then I would buy a big grand piano and pay someone from the Capitol to come and teach me how to play it."

For a moment I considered the novelty of Briare's dream. What if I did that? It wouldn't make me any happier would it? No, I didn't need three hundred sixty-five dresses or shoes to make me happy. A piano might be nice though, it would give me something to do other than sulk around my house singing to myself when I was alone.

"What about you Maysilee? Other than the shoes what would you do?" I asked.

"Well, I would build a big house at the edge of District Twelve for my family to live in long after I would die. I can just imagine my twin sister and I living in a big luxurious house raising own children there. No one I love would starve or go homeless."

"I might have to steal that house idea." I mused with a smile, "Slade what would you do?"

"I'd find a smoking hot little blonde to marry. She'd have a short temper, be about five foot six, and probably have a name starting with the letter T." Slade winked at me and I felt like I might start laughing again.

Without warning Haymitch wound up and punched Slade so hard in the face that he fell out of his seat and onto the floor, "I'd beat the poor idiot who keeps hitting on my girlfriend. That's what I'd do."

Jumping out of my seat I stood between Haymitch and Slade, who was sitting on the ground in a daze, both hands against Haymitch's chest to keep him from charging Slade, "Calm down. You can beat the daylights out of him once you're in the Arena but not here."

Haymitch's furious grey eyes met my stormy blues for the first time since he boarded the train. A tornado of emotions were going through him and I could only pick out a few. Confusion, hurt, sadness, and love all mixed up with the other unreadable emotions into a hurricane of rage.

"Please." I begged quietly.

Begrudgingly Haymitch sat back relaxed a bit and left the dinning car to wait in the lounge. Obviously he and I needed to have a one on one talk so he could get whatever was bothering him off of his chest.

Turning sharply, I glared at Slade, "If you flirt with me again I'll gut you and throw your lifeless carcass off the back of the train, understand?"

"Yeah." Slade swallowed nervously.

"Go get some ice on your face, it's going to be a_ big_ ugly bruise tomorrow." Alvis suggested lightly.

* * *

**Well, Slade had it coming.**

**What do you think about the new characters Briare and Slade?**


	5. Chapter 5 Mistress

**Surprise! I know I'm getting worse with these chapters, I'm just juggling a lot of important life decisions at the moment, sorry.**

**I hope this super long chapter makes up for all that lost time!  
**

* * *

"First thing's first," I said commanding complete attention from my Tributes, "I need to talk with each of you one on one to get a plan laid out for each of you on how to get Sponsors. You may hate them, love them, or want to dump them in the Arena and see to they like it, but when worse comes to worse out there, a Sponsor is the difference between dying today and living through tomorrow."

"Do they really make that much of a difference?" Maysilee asked cautiously, as if afraid I might suddenly pounce her and rip out her jugular with my bare hands.

Unsure how to feel about her fear, I tried to give her a reassuring look, "If my Sponsors hadn't bought me that medicine that healed my back after that fight with the... birds, there is no way I would have been able to climb those cliffs fast enough to avoid being a Tribute shish-kebab."

"Okay, but—,"

"Thank you Maysilee for volunteering to go first." I interrupted, knowing that I didn't have enough time to argue with her over every little thing, "Briare is next, Slade after her, and Haymitch is last. Before all that however, we need to watch the Reaping."

"I was _there_, honey," Slade wrinkled his nose like I had suddenly become the village idiot, "_I don't need to see it_."

"Then get out of my lounge." I suggested calmly.

Apparently Slade didn't get the point because he just sat there with this stupid expression on his face. Walking over to where he now sat, I grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled Slade's nearly two hundred pound frame to it's feet with one hand. With a beckon of my finger Slade leaned down until his ear was right by my mouth.

"GET OUT OF MY LOUNGE!" I howled and dragged a very dazed boy over to the door. When it hissed open I shoved him through it none too gently, "Were you there at District One's Reaping?! I watched it already and you stand_ no_ chance! You'll go home before the first cannon rings!"

With that the door hissed shut between us.

"Alright then." I clapped, the awkwardness in the air tangible, "Let's all get comfortable and watch some kids get Reaped. I want you all to profile each and every Tribute. What are they most likely hiding? Who would you want on your alliance? How big of an alliance?"

"How are we supposed to do that?" Briare piped up once again.

Rubbing the back of my neck to ease the tension that was building up in the base of my skull, I sighed, "It's one of those things that I don't have time to teach you if you don't already know."

Quickly, before anyone could ask another question, I turned on the television. Instantly the young face of Caesar Flickerman met our gaze. This year he was dressed in red head to toe. Dripping blood red in fact. The sight of it made me want to throw up on the carpet. Forty-seven tributes were going to be brutally slaughtered and Caesar dressed like _that?_

"Claudius we are in for a Reaping that breaks the records for longest ever held and my is it an important event!" Caesar beamed proudly.

Sitting next to Caesar in his traditional seat was Claudius Templesmith who chuckled, "The audience is in for a treat! In between each District Reaping we'll be giving away two tickets to the Mentor's Ball— you heard me right! Twenty four tickets are going out to the wonderful citizen's of the Capitol! Enter to win these tickets by phoning the Gamemaker's office! The twenty-fourth caller wins both tickets!"

"Is it true that dates with some of our recent Victors are up for bidding at the Ball?" Caesar asked excitedly.

"Why yes it is Caesar!" Claudius confirmed with a nod, "Lark, Ajax, Cleon, Titania, and last year's Victor Flux will be up for a date separately with the highest bidder!"

Somewhere off to my right I heard Haymitch swear softly but decided to ignore it because now was not the time or place to discus the things I may or may not be hiding from him. Folding my arms resiliently, I kept my eyes locked on the screen to prove a point to the straying pairs of eyes glancing back at me.

As each District passed by I saw the chances of District Twelve dwindling down lower and lower until I wanted to walk away and cry. No, I was watching my chances of keeping Haymitch alive get shaved, smashed, and otherwise pulverized into practically nothing. Usually a tribute could pinpoint the Tributes they needed to befriend and those they needed to stay away from at any cost, but this year there were just so many of them. Each and every one of them with mother's and father's. Friends. Loves.

As District Six finished, I wasn't sure I would be able to watch the Reaping all the way through. The first time had been bad enough. Now that I knew what was going to happen I had more time to think about each tribute. That one was a Momma's boy. Her older sister had to be dragged away from her. His best friend hugged him so hard that I was sure the poor boy would break a rib. All the little details I hadn't noticed the first time because all I had been worried about before was whether or not they were dangerous enough to remember.

Turning away, my instructions came out so softly I wasn't sure if my Tributes heard them, "Find me at the end of the train when you finish."

Last year I had traveled the train one night when I couldn't sleep. I remember trying to explore the train my very first night aboard it as a Tribute and stopping at the Dining Car because I was so hungry. As a Mentor however I decided I might as well get through a thorough investigation. At the very end of the train was a sort of storage area that had dozens of wooden crates. The car itself was made of sturdy metal and windows that could be opened to let in the two hundred mile-an-hour winds.

Throwing open one of the windows I laughed as the torrent of air and sunshine rushed in and gave me goosebumps. My white dress whipped around my legs in the onslaught. Sitting on one of the crates that ringed the car I waited.

Nearly an hour later the door hissed open and without looking I knew it was Maysilee Donnor. Awkwardly she stood next to the door. Again she was unsure what to do when presented with a lack of instructions. Quietly I waited patiently sitting on a crate for Maysilee to do something. Slowly, carefully, Maysilee came over to where I sat. After a couple of painfully long seconds she sat on a crate across from me.

Finally I raised my gaze and met her's with a mischievous smile, noticing a small golden pin on her shirt and realizing it was probably her token, "You're here. Good. Nice choice in seating by the way."

Staring at me, Maysilee went from angry to dumbstruck in a matter of moments, "Are you _still_ obsessing over the seating thing? Haymitch isn't even here!"

I held up a finger, "Think about why that seat is a good choice."

"It isn't because I want you to lead me or anything." Maysilee muttered, folding her arms in quiet defiance.

"Whether or not you wanted to be led was completely up to you. The other reason that is a good seat is because you can keep both eyes on me without leaving yourself vulnerable. It's not the best spot I'll admit but not a bad one."

"Whatever— can you stop talking nonsense and tell me how to stay alive out there?" Maysilee grouched.

"Stay alive— not win?"

"Only the crazies want to win."

"Not true. To stay alive you have to win and in order to win you have to stay alive. In the Games you can't have one without the other. Death means you lose— and that you aren't alive anymore." I explained with an amused smile.

Maysilee was quiet for a few moments, "Does anyone really win though?"

Her sad blue eyes met my somber ones and I knew this was no time for lying, "No one wins the Hunger Games."

Finally convinced that I had her best interest in mind Maysilee confided in me the angle she hoped to use for getting Sponsors. All Maysilee wanted to do was tell her story like it was: back home she had a twin sister Lillyanne who was utterly lost whenever the two were a part. They knew each other so well that it felt like they were only half of a person when they were no longer in proximity. It was Maysilee's hope that she could sell the heart breaking story of the two losing each other in order to get some Sponsors.

I nodded occasionally during the story to encourage Maysilee to continue on. When she finished I told her to go and send Briare on her way here. There was no need to alter Maysilee's story even a bit. The most I might have to do was teach the girl how to act out her story to the fullest.

Eventually Briare arrived at the last car. Like with Maysilee I didn't look at her or acknowledge her presence until she'd sat down. Unfortunately Briare chose to sit on a crate near me confirming my suspicions that she trusted all too easily and completely. For Briare I didn't bother asking her what she wanted to do— I had a sneaking suspicion that it would be something along the lines of charming with a mysterious dark side. No, for Briare the plan was absolute femininity. Youthful innocence, a tale of a warm and loving childhood, and the heartbreaking slap in the face of a comment about how she'd never have that again. Once the Games started I wanted her to show the Capitol just how much they forced these kids to change. Of course Briare was up for anything her idol suggested so it went down smoother than sleep syrup.

Then Slade's turn came and it didn't go down smoothly at all. He walked over to me, pulled me up off the crate, and attempted to planted a big wet kiss on my lips. Was this guy really _this_ stupid? Strategically placing my hands on Slade's chest, I pushed him with all the force I could muster. Falling backwards into the crates Slade must have crushed three or four of them. Unfortunately this wasn't the train that brought in the weapons they used for the Arena or he might have just impaled himself on a spear. Darn it all my luck sucked. Slade scampered off after giving me a glare that only made me laugh.

Haymitch entered the room twenty minutes later it took every ounce of strength to sit there and not look at him. If I looked at him he would sense the stress radiating off of me. Instead of stressed I must have appeared to be losing it. Looking back later I would realize that I was sitting in a dark room, on top of a crate, blank face, and freezing cold wind tearing at me; of _course_ I looked crazy. Which explained his reaction.

The door closed behind him with a hiss and Haymitch stayed near it. He crouched down by the exit and tried to get a better look at my face. From where I sat I could hear Haymitch's breathing pick up slightly before he fought it back down. He must have just seen the smashed crates that I probably should have cleaned up.

"Titania?" Haymitch asked gently like I was a terrified animal that needed calming down, "Are you feeling okay?"

Relaxing a bit I leaned against the stacked crates behind me, "Terrific. I finally got Maysilee to realize I'm on her side and giving Briare an angle was undoubtedly the easiest one-on-one conference I've ever had with a Tribute."

"And Slade?"

"He's the reason there is crate brains on the floor." I grumbled angrily.

"Do you want me to help you throw him off the train?" Haymitch asked quietly in a soothing tone.

"No."

"It's almost lunch, you know." Haymitch mentioned nonchalantly while he stayed crouched over near the door.

"Don't care. You and I need to talk."

"I don't want to talk."

Releasing my tight fisted control over my eyes I snapped my gaze over to Haymitch who slowly met it, "I don't particularly care that you don't want to talk. You need to."

Haymitch stood with a glowering look, "What about the things _you_ need to talk about? That bid for a date crap from the Reaping obviously isn't the only thing you're hiding!"

"It's just stupid promotional stuff." I half-lied with a beautifully feigned eye roll, "We'll talk about my excruciatingly boring Capitol life later. But first you need to get whatever it is you're bottling up off of your chest, Haymitch."

Begrudgingly he admitted, "Maysilee's always next to me and she has this odd ability to make everything feel better than it is. Then I look at you and feel all the worse than I had in the first place because of what Maysilee does. Stupid Slade just makes everything impossibly tougher by trying to make you . It's just dumb stuff like that."

With care I stood and gave my boyfriend the biggest hug while my heart felt like it had a lot of little paper cuts erupting on the surface, "If she makes you feel better then... maybe we—"

"Don't even think like that, Titania." he murmured into my ear, "Maysilee is a great girl, but I already have everything I need right here in my arms."

For a few seconds I enjoyed Haymitch holding me and feeling his heart beat in time mine. It had been a day since we'd had any time to ourselves and even that was too long. Tilting back my head a bit I brushed my lips against his.

Haymitch chuckled, "You call that a kiss?"

Just then Taftan of all people walked into the car. Silently I prayed Haymitch wouldn't recognize him and was extremely relieved when he turned away from him. Yet my luck was never that good and it still wasn't. Haymitch's head whipped back around.

Slowly he turned back my way, "Really?"

"I'm sorry!" Taftan yelped, his whole face turning bright tomato red, "I— I didn't— I d-didn't kn-now you two were in-n here st-till!"

My face mirrored Taftan's, "It's okay, just, uh, give us a moment."

As suddenly as he'd shown up Taftan left.

Seemingly unaffected by or unwilling to let Taftan's interruption ruin our moment he leaned in until our lips were millimeters apart, "So we apparently have even more to talk about later. Just tell me what my angle is, then we'll eat lunch."

"Be yourself Haymitch— they'll love you just as much as I do." I smiled and pecked him on the cheek.

Stepping back from each other we laughed and made our way to the dining car. Not once did we stop laughing. In the couple minutes it took to make the trip we cast aside the gloomy thought that in less than two hours the train would pull into the Capitol. That Haymitch would finally see the evilest part of Panem. The two of us walked into the dining car looking as thick as thieves and got snickered at by the other Tributes. Even Alvis joined them.

"What's so funny?"

"When were we supposed to have those physical tests you threatened us with?" Maysilee giggled good-naturedly.

_Crap_, I kicked myself internally. I had forgotten that it was going to take twice as long to figure out their different angles. Now I had no time to get a feel for my Tributes style before training tomorrow morning. Almost as soon as the tributes got sorted into different rooms I'd have to meet Delphin and his team of stylists to get ready for the Mentor's Ball.

"Don't _complain_." Alvis advised with chuckle, "She's _pretty_ die-hard with the tests. It's pretty much _do-till-you-die-of-Titania's-sheerly-awesome-stamina._"

"Yup." I laughed.

The waiters set down plates for Haymitch and I, filled with chicken and herb rice in a tangy fruit sauce that had a strangely strong aroma. Not a bad smell it was just stronger than one would expect from fruit. Food soon cleared from my plate, I slunk off to my compartment and reluctantly 'dolled up' for the arrival in the Capitol where a rather massive gathering of strangely dressed people waited to greet the last Tributes.

Alvis must have had my Tributes change as well because they were also a tad dressier than when I had left. The train pulled into the station and I stood near the window. Lips smiling, my eyes watched the riotous crowd sadly as the smothering feeling I always got when I was in the Capitol slowly filled me. Briare came and stood next to me at the window. I didn't have to ask in order to know that she was feeling the first tendrils of culture shock. The others stayed in their seats while the train slowed to a stop.

Armed Peacekeepers escorted us through the screaming hoard who all wanted a good look at us. Of course my Tributes wanted a good look at the Capitol citizens as well. There was nothing wrong with a bit of curiosity as long as we kept moving toward the Tribute Center in a timely manner.

Tall decorative glass doors closed behind us, sealing off the roar of the crowds to nothing. I didn't hesitate to walk through the lobby of the Tribute Center over to the strangely colored elevators. When I called the waiting elevator down from the tenth floor I turned back and was surprised to see my Tributes standing near the glass lobby doors gawking at the beautiful modern styling of the garishly large room. They'd never seen such a large place in their lives. It was only natural for them to be shocked that a single room could be the size of a District Twelve city block.

The elevator dinged, catching my attention, and when I looked inside I knew that Alvis would have to settle in the Tributes by himself. Lark, Ajax, Cleon and Flux stood inside with stony expressions on their faces. Except poor Flux who looked ready to break down and cry if someone looked at him the wrong way. He'd probably found out not long ago what Snow forced pretty much all of his Victors to do.

Lark, a tall skinny girl from District Five, had long mouse brown hair and pale white skin that made it look as if she'd never seen sunlight. She looked really scary to be honest with a cruel sort of beauty that emitted from her cold electric blue eyes. If you could get past that though Lark wasn't that bad. Like me she had two sides to her personality: a fun almost sweet side and a cruel chill-you to-the-bone side. Lark's sides weren't as separate as mine though. Something that gave me hope that I might not have to struggle with being bipolar for the rest of my life.

Next in line was Ajax. He was from District Four but he was built like those body building killers from Two. Sun bleached blonde cropped hair and perfectly tanned skin stuck out as the best of his overall good looks. Ajax too had blue eyes but they weren't sky blue like back home in Twelve or electric blue like Lark's. They were more like the brooding blue of a stormy sea which didn't match his personality at all. Ajax was such a laid back and fun guy to be around.

That explained why Ajax and Cleon the District Two tyrant didn't get along very well. Cleon was built like a solid six foot wall of raw muscle and had the attitude of an alpha male gorilla during mating season. Very territorial, very serious, and very into finding the best tails to chase, if you get what I mean. Twice he'd tried his moves on me and twice I'd sent him packing. Luckily he got the idea that I was the last girl on earth he wanted to try and intimidate or I would have had to resort to breaking _both_ of his collar bones.

Flux was the new guy in the group. The two of us had met months ago to do the cover story for _Conquer_ magazine and he looked strangely different now. Flux had the same features as before: brown hair, hazel eyes, and rich ivory skin; the poor guy just looked worn to the point that I could have broken him with one word. That is until he actually _saw_ me. Suddenly Flux looked like he could and would take me on.

Thankfully Ajax saw what was going on and stepped in between the two of us to give me a casual hey-I-haven't-seen-you-in-a-while one arm hug, "Geez you're a hard girl to get a hold of out there in District Twelve! I even tried to get your friend Gea to have me do a shoot on the same day as you so I could at least say 'hi'."

The thought of anyone trying to make Gea schedule anything she didn't want to was ridiculous— that woman had a way of getting what she wanted, "I bet that went over well."

"She had him do lower level shoots every day for a month." Lark laughed as she came forward and shook my hand, "You can imagine his embarrassment becoming the face of the easy-wash oil painter's apron."

Behind her words though I knew what the real punishment for Ajax had been— a month away from the sea and all he held dear in the world. Not exactly a cruel punishment but it got the point across that Gea would not bend to anyone's wishes.

Looking behind me I caught Alvis' eye and he knew that it would fall to him to get our Tributes settled in for the night. I on the other hand would be poked, prodded, violated, bid on, and shown off. No way on Panem would Alvis trade places with me for even two seconds.

Swept along with the other four Victors I found myself in a stylist room in no time. All five of us were to be prepped in one room all at the same time. Apparently the Capitol was getting even worse about the whole modesty thing. Someone somewhere had asked themselves 'do you think the Victors will mind being stark naked all in the same room together?' and that same idiot's friend probably said 'nah, they'll be fine'.

The truth was that Lark, Cleon, and Ajax were indeed used to it so being naked around each other was totally normal. Flux and I however didn't say a word to attract attention to ourselves because we felt extremely self-conscious. There was a reason I didn't remember my chariot ride from two years ago. Again I had been practically naked in front of the nation and it had been the most horribly exposed hour of my life so I had repressed it so far into the back of my mind it was irretrievable. Now, I felt somehow more exposed in front of these four people who were being just as abused as I was by the two person prep teams.

Five stylists came in to the sight of five squeaky clean Victors. Delphin came straight over to me with that excited light in his eyes that made me all the more nervous. In one hand he had a garment bag and the other was twitching towards his pocket which looked like it had a pen and bit of paper in it.

"So, I know you always just want to get down to business. Let's get to it!" He cracked a smile full of perfect teeth.

In the blink of an eye I was wearing my entire outfit for the night. A sunset orange dress that floated out from my hips and ended at my knees. The cloth of the sleeves were folded together on each separate side into what I'd been told was a Greek style. A corset fitted the middle in a slightly darker orange and was bordered and stripped with half-inch bands of titanium. It took away my breath as I admired the delicate folds in the dress and intricate designs crisscrossing the metal bands. Before I could thank Delphin for what is arguably one of the most beautiful pieces I've ever worn, a group of Peacekeepers marched into the room and swept the five of us Victors away. There were five Peacekeepers per each of us. Sad part is that we may have still been able to take them on. I could almost laugh. Almost.

We were taken to the President's Mansion where the Capitol celebration of the Victory Tour was held every year. Through the gargantuan doors ahead of me I could see the very impressive Ballroom comfortably filled with milling Capitol citizens. The Ballroom was not quite as done up as for the Tours yet somehow classier. More elegant. Inside the room I could see five white disks off at one end. Lark, Ajax, Flux, Cleon, and I were escorted across the room through the parting crowd towards the disks.

A man I had never seen before in my life came forward to a microphone off to my left next to Flux and probably cracked a Capitol joke because the audience began roaring with laughter. Then the white disk Lark was standing on raised up about three feet so she was on a pedestal of sorts and he started the bids for her. The starting bid was enough money to keep the whole Seam well fed for a year and it shot up ridiculously higher from there. By the time the man at the microphone called sold, the winning price would be more than enough to build District Twelve three fully equipped hospitals.

Glancing over at Flux I caught his eye and I knew that the winning price would do a lot of good for District Three as well if the money was actually put to good use. When I looked over at Ajax however he seemed to be mulling over the price like it was _lower_ than usual. Which frightened me.

Ajax's turn was next and the bids ended almost twice as high. Something to do with the fact he was a little bit gorgeous, a little bit funny, and an occasional gentleman drove these Capitol girl's crazy. Cleon was raised up and began doing some pretty provocative poses that made the whole event twice as horrible to me. Was that going to be me and Flux in a couple of years? Shivers ran up my body as Cleon's bids finished and my turn began.

Out of the crowd strutted a young man who couldn't be more than a couple years older than me up to where I was standing. No one stopped him as he made a slow inspection of every inch of my frame. The rest of the citizens seemed to be holding their breath as if they were waiting for this handsome guy to give a verdict of some kind. He came to a stop in front of me and I got my first real look at him. Curly chocolate brown hair, bright green eyes that had an unmistakable higher-than-thou calculation about them, a strong jaw, perfectly sculpted cheekbones, and a medium built six foot frame. The guy looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place where I'd seen him before.

Naturally as the wind swaying in the breeze the handsome man took my hand in his and raised it above our heads. The whole crowd clapped and cheered for us. Whatever just went down was bound to be something that would be incredibly important to a Capitol girl but was bound to drive me absolutely mad.

When the man at the microphone spoke I got my confirmation.

"Cheers for the new official Mistress of Athanasios Snow!"

"Who?" I choked as I pulled my hand from the handsome strangers.

"Athanasios Snow, son of Coriolanus Snow the President of Panem. You could kind of call me the Prince of Panem if you like." the stranger smirked with a cocky air of nobility.

For a second his green eyes looked like the eyes of a serpent and I suddenly understood how mad this was bound to make me.

* * *

**I don't think I've dropped this heavy of a bomb since Titania's Hunger Games! Few that's a load off!  
**


	6. Chapter 6 Trials and Electrocutions

**Finally got it just right! Few! I was going to add this really fluffy scene between Titania and Haymitch, but then I realized that Haymitch is a lot of things but he isn't fluffy.**

**So I realized this morning I forgot to ask what you guys think of Athanasios? Cocky, rich kid who likes to be called 'Your Highness' on occasion? Titania could do so much better in my opinion. Although we'll see about that. Many more men will traipse through Titania's messed up little world.**

* * *

Dancing.

Never in my entire life had I hated to dance. Even when I was going through my most unstable periods I would wake up and just dance through my whole house. Not that anyone outside my family knew how addicted I was. Despite that Haymitch and Taftan were like family they didn't even know my secret and I planned to keep it that way for as long as possible. Dancing was something I did when I was alone.

Now however the whole ballroom was parting to the sides of the ballroom after the winning bid for Flux was made and I was out in front of everyone with Athanasios. Dancing in front of the Capitol crowd wouldn't have been so bad if I had been with just about anyone else. But as things stood I had my partner. I hadn't been allowed to leave Athanasios' side for even a second since he picked me to be his Mistress. Somehow he must have been sensing my urge to find the biggest rock in all Panem and hide under it.

The worst part was that I didn't know this dance. Some sort of pre-apocalyptic dance that had a slow three beat rhythm. Following Athanasios was the best I could manage. That was until he started adding spins and twists and all sorts of flashy little tricks that would have caught me off guard if I wasn't so good at reading body language. The song ended and without warning Athanasios pressed his lips to the back of my hand and bowed. Unsure what to do I mirrored his movements.

He laughed, "Oh Darling. It seems there is a lot you should learn."

"I highly doubt you know any customs from District Twelve— maybe _you_ ought to learn a thing or two."

"I don't have to." Athanasios challenged with a smirk and held out his hand for me to take again for the next dance.

For a second I seriously considered slapping him before I cheekily placed the wrong hand in his with a wink, "Mmm-hmm. And I'm a squirrel."

Caught off guard Athanasios stared at me as if a second head had grown out of my neck, "What?"

Grabbing his tie and cinching it tighter with feigned flirtatiousness, I smiled, "Not here or now, but at one point, my little down home characteristics are going to pique a little spark of interest in you. And then I'll be the teacher."

Athanasios studied me for a second with a curiosity like I was a new toy that did something he hadn't expected. Those piercing green eyes that had done nothing but calculate every movement and every word since he claimed me stared into mine before a chilling smile crept onto Athanasios' lips.

"You actually believe that."

"So do you." I insisted with my best flirty face on.

Despite the mask of attraction I was wearing on the surface I think Athanasios saw straight through to the revulsion hiding just beneath. The whole night he made idle chatter with me or forced me into dance after dance, never really giving me his full attention again seeing as there were so many people dying to give him the latest gossip. It might sound like I was having the worst night of my life. In actuality I was grateful that he wasn't scrutinizing every blink, lip quiver, hair flip, and loaded glance. As long as I didn't look at Athanasios too much I could pretend I was dancing with Haymitch. The thought made the whole awful night almost bearable.

After a couple hours the Sponsors got up the courage to cut in and take me from Panem's Prince. Not that he didn't have a line of people gunning for him. I must have met over two hundred people though by the time Athanasios stole me back for the last dance. It was a slow song similar to the first song we'd danced to so I got ready for him to spin me away. Instead Athanasios placed his hands on either side of my waist and pulled me close. For a couple excruciatingly long minutes I was back under Athanasios' full attention. During this time he asked me a couple of questions about my health. Which made things impossibly more awkward and crazy. This was the guy I had to be with? Ridiculous.

Athanasios was handsome, rich, smart, strong, and completely wrong for me.

By the time the Ball was over the sun was starting to hue the horizon and I was barely holding onto the appearance of being alert while inside I was sure that the first flat indoor surface I came across would be where I crashed for the night. Flux must have been just as tired because his Capitol date seemed to be helping him stay on his feet. No one else seemed effected like we were. Unlike going without sleep in the Arena, I didn't have a nearly constant stream of adrenaline coursing through my veins to keep my attentiveness up. Dizzily I stumbled through the short walk from the Manion to the Training Center after Athanasios thankfully bid me goodnight; very unlike what I'd been fearing would happen when the Ball was over. The lobby of the Tribute Center was deserted and so were the elevators. The doors closed and I pressed the button for the top floor. Soft lullaby music filtering through an invisible speaker was the last thing I remembered as I felt the cool side of the elevator press up against my face.

When I was conscious again it was only because there was an immensely loud fight going on outside of my bedroom on District Twelve's floor. How did I get there? I considered ignoring fight and the questions until I heard the distinct sound of glass breaking caught my attention. That was the cue for the Mentor to step in and break up whatever act of panic fueled violence had broken out.

Stumbling past Taftan, who was somehow still asleep through the ruckus and had spent the night on the floor, on my way to the door, I opened it and careened down the hallway toward the unmistakable sound of a very angry Haymitch.

As soon as I entered the room all eyes turned to me. Mouths dropped open at the sight of me and I realized that I was wearing the dress from last night. It really was a stunning piece. Meanwhile I took in the sight of Haymitch who appeared to be in a murderous mood towards Alvis who looked like he was doing his best to keep the argument from going to blows. Slade, Briare, and Maysilee sat uncomfortably at the table in what must have been their best attempt at not getting involved.

My voice came out like the quiet before the storm, "What exactly is going on here?"

In response to my question Haymitch ran over to me and would have hugged me if it wasn't for my hand pressing against his chest, forcing him to keep his distance. Haymitch's face gazed at me with a mixture of confusion and worry that I met with a simple cold raise of the eyebrow. The desperation that formed in his eyes told me everything. Alvis wouldn't let Haymitch check on me because Alvis knows that I'm a light sleeper, but Haymitch being, well, _Haymitch_, had decided that he needed to see for himself that I was fine.

"Please don't do something stupid." I whispered quietly to him, then turned to the others, "I'll change, then we'll head down for training."

They looked uncomfortable for a moment in the awkward silence that had settled over the room from Haymitch and I's silent conversation. It probably just hit them that Haymitch and I knew each other well enough to talk without words. Sure my Tributes knew that the two of us were dating, it had only been brought up several times on the train. However it was news to them that Haymitch and I were so intimately knowlegable of the others expressions that we didn't have a need to speak. The only reason we bothered was for appearances and I was pretty sure Haymitch just liked the sound of his own voice.

Then I turned my back and walked as uprightly as I possibly could back to my room where I changed into clothes appropriate for running back and forth across the Tribute Training Room. I tamed my hair by putting it up in a ponytail and removed the last of the makeup from last night. Without so much as a word I grabbed a little surprise from my bedside and escorted my Tributes down to the Training Room. During the twenty minute wait for the doors to officially open I taught my Tributes how to tell if people were looking at you like an opponent, an ally, or a hunk of meat.

As the doors began to open I caught my Tributes attention one more time, "Remember not to give you all, but don't look like a complete weakling, keep your angle in mind all the time, and alternate between the weapon and survival stations— a well rounded education is the best tool you can have out there."

Unfortunately, as District Twelve stepped out into the sea of faces, there were a lot of meaty looks throw their way.

Inside the Training Room was ciaos. Mentors and Peacekeepers every which way making almost impossible to not run into everyone withing five feet of you. Not a single station didn't have either a cue or a large crowd. That and all the Mentors were trying to do a bit of catching up with each other. It made my surprise for getting Sponsors all the harder to achieve. Occasionally though I'd stand there and the perfect opportunity to use the camera. Alvis told me that he wasn't even sure if I was allowed to take pictures of my Tributes while they were down in the Training Room and that it was kind of an old-fashioned idea. I told him that Panem could use a little old-fashioned.

_Click_: Briare smiled nervously— though to those who didn't know her it looked more like a smile of quiet triumph— as she stabbed a sword through a dummy's chest. _Click_: Slade's arm was coiled back to throw a wicked looking spear with his other arm stretched forward in a position that I knew the Capitol women would find sexy. _Click_: Maysilee's face scrunched into a determined look as she pulled back on a bowstring. _Click_: Haymitch giving a sparring partner a potentially deadly headlock. I'd taken nearly fifty pictures by the time I finished.

Ajax chatted with me for a while as we watched Haymitch and one of his Tributes worked at the knife station. I knew despite our friendship that Ajax would never agree to an alliance between my tributes and his. In his eyes I was the exception to the the unspoken rule that all District Twelve Tributes sucked because of my clear ability to not just outlast my enemies but to know when to thin them out; a quality the other Tributes from my District sorely lacked. Ajax even joked that if we had been in the same Games he would have made me an ally before his own District Partner. Something about keeping your greatest competition closest to you.

The wall climb was excruciatingly long because of the double amount of Tributes attempting to reach the top. No one did of course._ Only four tributes had ever made it in fifty years,_ I thought with a secretive chuckle. Much to my disappointment it was Slade who got furthest in my group. Not that I was biased or anything.

When the Tributes were released for lunch all seventy two of us were packed into a room that was just large enough to comfortably fit fifty at most. It was so stuff in fact that I decided to eat out in the main training area. A couple other victors had snuck out as well. We began placing bets with these steamed buttery carrot sticks on who could do what at certain stations. A very unfortunate guy from District Ten bet me ten carrots that I couldn't knock a thumbnail sized breadcrumb off of his nose with a knife. After the handle of the knife smacked into his shoulder he tilted his head to look at me and the breadcrumb came off. The others made him pay up because I technically did get the crumb off his nose with a knife, just not the way he'd intended me to.

Later I began my duties as Mentor once more. Haymitch had to be both the easiest and the hardest to teach of them all. It's just that Haymitch wasn't just some good looking young man who had a forty-seven out of forty-eight chance of dying; he was my boyfriend. That complicated things a bit. I looked at him and I had to remind myself that I couldn't lean over and kiss him or run to him when I'd had one of my worse nightmares. Haymitch was a _Tribute_. If he was going to have any chance whatsoever at surviving I had to focus and tell him everything I could about how to play the social and physical aspects of the Hunger Games.

In the morning we repeated the day before with very little deviance other than the Tribute Trial and the interview nuances that we practiced. Today was hand-to-hand and I couldn't help but get lost in the memory of when went through this same thing as I watched each set go through. Flashes of hands, the ghost feeling of being choked, losing control to the red visioned warrior inside me and having to be pulled away by... Bay. Swallowing hard, I forced the forming lump in my throat down. Now was not the time to show even the slightest emotion with all the Tributes watching each other and the Mentors.

The Gamemakers released the Tributes for lunch and I made my way over to the elevators. Tributes didn't appreciate how hard a Mentors job was; we are forced to connect with each of them so they'll trust us, give them knowledge, teach them courage, and then they bite the dust. Even if they survive they are never the same. The poor kid learns all the things about being a Victor we had to hide from them and resent us. I hadn't mentored a winner yet, but if Flux's reactions two days ago had been a hint of what I'd be dealing with, I was partially grateful for it.

That night, much like the last, was filled with physical and mental preparations. Studying what victors from previous Games did to win and doing some workout rutines that I used daily to stay fit. None of them believed me that I did those workouts everyday willingly.

Was there any doubt in my mind that my Tributes were sleeping at night though? No. They could hardly make it to their beds without collapsing let alone stay up all night worrying about the fact that two days from now they'd be sleeping in the Arena. In fact I had to half-carry half-drag Maysilee and Briare to their room at the same time the night before. Tonight they managed it on their own which only proved that my plan to build up their muscles before the Games had started working. Every little thing could be what saves a person out in the Arena.

Waking up before sunrise from a particularly violent nightmare involving ostriches that shot poisonous darts from their scorpion tails, I went into the lobby room so as not to wake up Taftan. For a few quiet moments everything was still while I sat on the balcony and watched the sun ascend above the sleeping Capitol. The beauty of it caught my breath. Not as beautiful as a District Twelve sunrise of course where you could see stars, moon, and sun at the same time all hanging over the black forest during the summer time.

The rest of the morning seemed to flash by until I found myself watching all the tributes approach the final Tribute Trial: the maze. A strange humming sound filled the air as we everyone gathered around the mouth of the labyrinth and it set me on edge. Strange humming was never a good thing when Peacekeepers, Gamemakers, or old electric stoves were involved.

The same man with a clipboard that had overseen my trials began to explain the procedure, "There is only one rule: each tribute must run _through_ the Maze and make it to the other side in a timely manner. Not making it to the other side will seriously hurt your Training Score." The man paused as if he didn't like what was going to come out of his mouth next, "Anyone who tries to run on top of the maze will find they are unable to make it to the other side. Titania Fellcrest will you step forward please?"

Despite the fact that I knew I was being made an example of and Briare was quietly telling me to not do it, I strode forward with confidence.

"Would step over to the maze wall just over there?" When I complied he added quietly, "Now place your hands on top of the maze wall at the same time, please."

Skin made contact with brick and suddenly I felt like all of my muscles were trying to explode at the same time. I had no control over myself as my hands stayed clamped to the wall and the rest of me began to spasm violently. I couldn't even open my mouth to scream because my jaw felt like it was cemented shut. Deep in my mind I realized that this was electrocution.

Something hard and round knocked me away from the maze wall and I crumpled as the last sparks left my system. Never before in my life had I felt this terrible. My whole body painfully throbbed out of sync with my heartbeat. There was hardly enough strength left in my body to breath let alone move or open my eyes. Whispers from the Tributes reached me in an unintelligible murmur of fear.

_If the Gamemakers would do _that_ to a Mentor, what would they do to us?_ They no doubt asked themselves.

I was barely clinging to consciousness as a pair of arms lifted me off the ground. Darkness encroached on my mind and I welcomed it in. The pain thankfully disappeared when the inky dark took over. Vaguely I could hear a friendly voice saying something to another familiar voice, almost as though I were hearing a conversation from across a thick glass window. The words made no sense. Yet the tones were warm and comforting. A calm feeling of belonging settled over me as if I'd been to this place before.

Then I was awake. The voices from across the glass were replaced by very real voices nearby. Something warm and wet was definitely moving down my temples and feminine hands grabbed my right arm to check my pulse.

"Well that sucked." I croaked.

"I bet." Maysilee laughed nervously, letting go of my wrist.

Slade knelt on the other side of me with a bit of relief touching his flirtatious expression, "Thought you were a goner for a second there."

Braire, kneeling next to where Maysilee was crouched, nodded her agreement, "I don't think they factored in that you would hold onto the wall or hit your head. A Peacekeeper had to use one of those rubber tipped sparring spears to knock you off."

I sighed, "I'm bleeding aren't I?"

"It's not so bad for a head wound." Slade shrugged and I couldn't help but wonder how many blows to the head this guy had taken.

"Where's Haymitch?"

Nervous glances were shared between the three of them, none of them really wanting to say answer my question, but Briare obliged, "He's going through the Maze right now... but when he started your pulse was kind of fading. Maysilee told him you'd shake it off, but he didn't look very convinced."

"Great. Just great." I grumbled and sat up despite the instantly overwhelming nausea.

Maysilee rested a hand on my shoulder, "You really ought to stay lying down."

I shrugged her off, "I've been worse."

Standing shakily, I took a deep breath and made my way back over to the Maze. Nearly every pair of eyes settled on me, mostly on the blood trickling down my undoubtedly ashen face. The longer I stood the more I felt like vomiting, but I wasn't going to let the Gamemakers give these kids any more reason to be afraid.

"You ought to be resting— electrocution's pretty hard on the body." One of the Mentors from Eleven whispered to me.

One look at the woman and I knew that she'd been electrocuted purposely before. Her Mentor Partner, a one armed man named Chaff, frowned at me with worry. All of the Victors looked worried or worse- afraid. And the fear amoung the Tributes only intesified when they saw for the first time that the strong winners from Hunger Games past were even more enslaved than they were.

I'd like to say next that I stood up to the Gamemakers with a stunning speech that made the Tributes feel less antsy or I ran through the Maze and got the fastest time yet despite my injuries. It just didn't happen that way. The end buzzer for Haymitch's run through the maze sounded. The headache I had blossoming in my frontal lobe catapulted into a magnitude seven migraine. I knew by now that showing up the Gamemakers would make things worse than they were. Yet all I wanted to do was throw out a single comment that would ease the tension and remind the Gamemakers that I'd already had the worst done to me.

Lifting my chin slightly, I stood straighter, "Why because I might die? I can tell you from experience," Raising my voice for all to hear, "The place beyond death is a party."

Then Chaff's partner shook her head sadly, and in a quiet voice told me, "There are worse things than death."

* * *

**FadedSunset****: No worries! That's kind of how I am when I read as well! Living in the moment and watching it all unfold before a very relaxed me.**

**gabz1197****: Those are some pretty impressive theories! Unfortunately I have to say none of them are completely true. I sat there reading through them and wondered, "Why didn't I think of that?"**

**GUESS WHAT?! I just found out this morning that The Hunger Games Adventures on Facebook is adding in a character named, you would never have guessed it, Boreas! Safe to say I felt like a proud mama!**


	7. Chapter 7 When One Door Closes

**Am I the only one who wondered how the Hunger Games stayed popular for Seventy-Five years? Looking at the way our society today moves on from tv shows and all. I saw a couple of shows that only made it through six episodes before the network canceled them! It makes you stop and think!**

**Anyways: Let the Games begin again!**

* * *

I sat bolt upright from a nightmare the morning the Hunger Games were beginning, my stomach nauseous and my eyes feeling like they'd been lit on fire. The interviews from the night before hung around in foggy detail in my aching head after the last bits of dream left. Forty-eight interviews and only Maysilee's angle had been used once, since she had tried to get the Capitol's sympathies at being separated from her twin. Twins were rare in Panem. Extremely. It was obvious that quite a few in the crowd were loath to let such a rarity be tainted.

That's when I noticed an arm around my waist. Momentarily I panicked that Athanasios had came for me, then I noticed that the arm was attached to Haymitch. Racking my brains, which cause my head to hurt even more, I couldn't think of anything from the night before that explained our current position.

"What in the-"

Maysilee, Slade, and Briare were off to my right, Haymitch on my left, and Taftan's place on the floor was vacant. I most certainly do not remember authorizing this situation yesterday. Or being coerced into it. In fact, I couldn't remember falling asleep last night. We'd finished the interviews and come back to the room for dinner. The later in the night the foggier the memories were, until just after the Tribute Training Scores when it all sort of stops.

"Haymitch." I hissed and shook him awake, "What in Panem happened last night?"

"Don't say it wasn't good for you too." He groaned with mock disappointment.

I punched his arm, "Not funny."

"First off, _ow_." Haymitch grumbled tiredly, rubbing the reddening area, "I sure hope your kids don't inherit your wicked arm. Secondly, you passed out on the couch— Alvis said you'd been drinking some sort of wine with dinner— and we carried you in here. Only, we didn't end up leaving."

The memory of downing several funny tasting fruity drinks during dinner came to me vaguely through the pounding headache that was forming at the back of my skull. Silently I swore that Alvis would pay for letting me even taste one of those without telling me what was in it, before flopping back down onto the pillows.

They didn't leave my room last night. Which means they were too afraid to go back to their rooms and needed the comfort of each others company. Or at least Slade, Maysilee and Briare needed each others company. Haymitch had probably decided he was too lazy to go back to his room and just fallen asleep here. Not that I particularly minded that my boyfriend had crashed in my room, but I was really grateful that we hadn't... done anything.

"Hunger Games, today." He commented softly, though neither of us needed to be reminded. We'd been dreading this day since the before the Reaping. A small part of me was sickly grateful that Slade was here instead of Haymitch's or my brothers because that would make this morning impossible to live through. One ounce more of pressure squeezing my heart and I'm sure it would burst.

My one shot at happily ever after was being defenestrated this morning. Of course, even if Haymitch hadn't been picked, how would we ever have had a life together if I was always being called off to the Capitol for bed-duty? The answer was that we couldn't. Either way this was the last morning we would ever spend together. For a moment Haymitch and I just laid there memorizing each other. Because each gaze could be the last we ever get, before he dies.

Kissing him tenderly on the cheek, I whispered, "I know."

"You call that a kiss?" He chuckled.

"If our hungover Mentor is going to start kissing you, then you two ought to go find a different room." Maysilee spoke up.

"You spoiled it!" Slade complained suddenly, quite apparently not as asleep as I'd thought, "I was totally going to do the awkward cough thing when they started making out! _But no,_ you just had to say something and ruin the moment."

Briare, who'd actually been sleep until this point, sat up and rubbed her eyes, "What's going on?"

Haymitch sighed in frustration, "Absolutely nothing."

I couldn't help but laugh despite the somber mood hanging over all of us. Suddenly Alvis burst into the room with a determined look on his face; he'd probably intended to come pry me out of bed before the Tributes came down for breakfast. The set of his face changed when he saw all five of us in the same bed together. I swear you could hear the sound of his jaw metaphorically hitting the floor.

Taking advantage of Alvis' shock, I ushered the chuckling Tributes out into the dining room where a couple Avox's served us breakfast. Genuinely telling each little things they ought to especially remember in the arena, I bid them individually farewell when they finished their pancakes. Surprising Haymitch, I slipped a bracelet onto his wrist. It was made of bone, and was carved into the shape of two wolves chasing each other. To remind Haymitch of our time in the woods, free from the madness of the Capitol. The Gamemakers had been hesitant to approve it, something about being able to break a large bone into lethal splinters, but I convinced them that breaking this would never even cross Haymitch's mind. Something like this had real value back home, and even if Haymitch died, he'd want to have worn it in the arena to make it worth even more for his Mother to sell and take care of their remaining family with.

Sad how one could be marching to their death wearing a bit of jewelry that they hoped would increase in value afterward. This was just a chilling reminded that we had to think about more than ourselves when we go to the Hunger Games. If we die, we leave our families behind, their worlds a little less warm.

Stopping Haymitch one more time I pulled him into a close embrace and whispered in his ear as quietly as possible, "I promise I'll teach him to hunt."

Somber understanding flickered in his grey eyes. Haymitch knew I would take care of his family and teach his little brother Sawyer how to fill in his shoes if Haymitch didn't come home. Someone had to take care of their Mrs. Abernathy and their Father sure wasn't doing the job.

Haymitch and I didn't kiss that much— something to do with each of us being more intellectually attracted to each other despite our albeit good looking exteriors— and yet we'd kissed enough for me to know that what happened between us in that last moment was definitely not a kiss. Sure lips were pressed against lips in a battle for dominance but it was full of pain and guilt, empty promises and dreams, and longings that would never be fulfilled.

"I love you." Came his breathy reply.

Then the Tributes were gone. Alvis had gone with them. Escorting them to the airstrip where a hovercraft would fly them to their deaths. I stood frozen in the spot Haymitch had left me in, staring at the door as if he'd come back in claiming it had all been a prank. The Reaping, the training and interviews, everything. Instead Taftan came into the lobby from who knows where he spent the night last night.

Suddenly Taftan's warm solid body was behind me, a large gentle hand on my shoulder, "Are you alright?"

I shook my head and sat down on one of the couches, "I'm never alright anymore."

"But you don't tell Haymitch that." Taftan frowned; maybe he picked up on my need for space at the moment because he began to help himself to a heaping pile of fluffy pancakes and caramel syrup.

For the briefest moment I wanted to deny it, say that I told Haymitch everything, but I knew it wasn't completely true, "No, I don't."

"Any particular reason?"

"I didn't want to psych him out this close to the Games." I replied defensively.

"What about before then?" Taftan asked through a mouthful of pancakes— I sear give the guy caramel and his table manners leap joyfully out the window— then swallowed, "You've been keeping some secrets from Haymitch for a very long time."

My famously short temper flared, "Because I'm afraid of the trouble the idiot will get himself into! If I tell Haymitch about Snow's deals with me, he'll try and avenge me somehow, and get himself killed!"

"Okay, hold up." Taftan set his fork down temporarily, "The other day you said Haymitch was the smartest person you know, now he's an idiot; which is it?"

"He's both!" I yell indignantly, "He's so smart and yet there is so much that just flies over his head!"

"The little stuff he doesn't want to notice?" Taftan suggests busily forking down his food.

"Exactly!" I throw my hands in the air.

Finishing off the rest of his pancakes, Taftan shrugs, "Do you really expect someone to notice what they don't want to?" crossing the room he sat next to me on the couch, "That's a bit unfair."

Anger simpering down, I stared at him in silence for a long moment before replying, "I suppose."

Taftan's face broke into a sweet little grin touched with a bit of knowing. Since the day my Mother began sending me on bread runs three years ago in the hopes that I'd catch one of the Baker boys' eyes, Taftan and I had been feeding off of one another's emotions. It's what made us such great friends. We empathetically felt each other's pain, hope, fear, joy, anger, loneliness, and everything else. But today there was a wall set up in the way of our connection. My best friend could smile all he wanted but it would be a long time before that got through the steel tensile barrier caused by Haymitch's being in the Games.

In a moment of uncharacteristic crossing of my boundaries without permission, Taftan wriggled his large warm fingers along my short ribs. At first all he got out of me was a barely contained bark of laughter. Soon however my control fractured allowing fits of giggles to slip through.

"St-t-t-top-p it-t!" I demanded, desperately wriggling away from the heinous torture, "Y-you-u kn-now I-I hate t-to be tic-ckled!"

Holding his hands up in surrender, Taftan was couldn't help but smile ear to ear, "Since when? I seem to recall that you love it when I tickle you, Titania."

I didn't even have the chance to look properly surprised at his correct statement before the Alvis walked in the door and the huge screen in the lobby came to life. Instantly my heart began to pound in my ears. For the smallest moment, amid an activity that I can't remember beginning to hate so strongly, I'd forgotten that today was Hunger Games day number one. About half of the tributes were bound to die today without so much as a prayer of seeing their families again except for in the afterlife.

Alvis sat on the other couch that faced the screen directly. In his left hand Alvis swished a rather large glass of strong smelling purple wine. Every year he did this on the first day. Something that had puzzled me for quite some time. Even though Alvis loved the sport of the Games, he hated connecting with the Tributes only to watch them get slaughtered.

Grabbing Taftan's hand I walked over to Alvis and settled in next to him. Sure the man creeped me out by the way his eyes would sometimes follow me appreciatively across the room. And of course we had our arguments that made us want to kill the other but no one deserved to watch their friends die on their own during the Hunger Games. So as the cameras followed a tribute girl from Nine into the tubes the three of us held each others hands for dear life.

We all gasped simultaneously. I don't just mean the three of us on the couch. No, no, no, I mean we, _the population of Panem,_ all gasped at the exact same time. The tributes had just risen into the Arena. The whole scape of the place was exquisite. The meadow here made the one back home look frumpy and pathetic. In fact the Arena was so beautiful that it was a tad unnerving.

The gong sounded and Haymitch leapt straight to the Cornucopia while the other tributes were dazed. Everyone else seemed to be under some kind of entranced spell along with the majority of Panem. He had all the supplies a Tribute could need and had the good fortune of making it to the woods before the others came to their senses and the Bloodbath began. There was so much carnage the cameras couldn't keep up. Surely they were deciding to give priority to the goriest deaths because we watched a poor boy from Six get his sternum ripped from his chest before watching the girl the cameras had followed into the tube choke to death after getting a sword shoved through the front on into the back of her neck.

A brief flash of Slade killing two smaller Tributes flashed on screen. Other than that my Tributes remained invisible until no one but an alliance of ten Careers stood at the Cornucopia. A brief flash of nine faces flashed through my mind. Nine faces of Tributes two years gone who had seemed like nothing special to anyone except one of them named Bay. Who had convinced me an alliance of ten had been a good idea. None of us survived.

"Don't worry about that." Taftan whispered knowingly and patted the back on my hand with his free one, "They're in a better place."

Things were calming down so the cannons began to ring. _One. __Two. Three. Four._ Eyebrows raised, I shared a frightened look with my friends. How many had actually died? Usually it was anywhere from seven to thirteen. How many more had fallen to the Quell? _Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven._ The Careers moved away from the Cornucopia so the bodies would be taken away when the canons finished ringing. Almost instantly an argument broke out between a couple of them that sucked the rest into a very intense conversation. _Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. _Suddenly the cameras picked up a bit of movement among the fallen Tributes.

Maysilee Donnor, with a fake slit in her throat that had obviously fooled everyone else, quickly gabbed a small backpack from one of the Tributes who were actually dead. The Careers were so busy fighting with one another that they didn't even notice Maysilee as she made off like a bandit back to the woods.

"_Someone_ was sure influential." Alvis teased me about our Tributes having obviously learned a thing or two from me about fooling the Careers.

All I could manage in response was tying to hide a proud blush as I shrugged off the comment. Not that it fooled anyone. Taftan began to chuckle softly when he caught a glimpse of the pink creeping across my cheeks.

The Careers began to pillage what was left at the Cornucopia as soon as the bodies were cleared away. The meadow was tainted with gallons of innocent blood and it only made them excited. Sick part was that the crazy part of me wanted to get out there and add to the mess with the corpses of the Careers. They stood between Haymitch and coming home to me. The urge to find a hovercraft and wreak havoc on the Arena was so strong I had to stop looking at the screen and bury my face into Taftan's shoulder, I could tell he was feeling the waves of bloodlust rolling off of me in waves and that I wasn't hiding my face because I was frightened. In fact, Taftan was so tense next to me he was certainly ready to jump away from me at any second. If I should suddenly go into killer mode, Taftan was prepared.

The only thing of real interest that happened in the next hour was finding out that Slade had contributed two kills to the Eighteen total deaths for day one. Which earned him a short spear and bag of apples he'd plucked from his victims. Later I'd learn that the Sponsors weren't using training scores so much, but the kill count and memorable performances to decide who to give their money to. Luck was favoring District Twelve this year. Three of our Tributes fit those categories.

Standing and stretching, I decided I might want to check out how the other Mentors were doing, and what the Sponsor situation looked like. Taftan, eager to leave the apartment, got dressed in some Capitol clothes that would allow him to blend in with the crowd. Unlike the over-thin men in the Capitol, Taftan somehow managed to still keep an undeniably handsome naturalness when he dressed up like that.

The main market in the Capitol, where all the mentors milled around to scout out Sponsors and do business with each other, was a little more packed than usual. With twice the Tributes it seems that more people had become willing to Sponsor. However it took me exactly thirty seconds to see that there might be more Sponsors but they were extra reluctant to put their money down on any one Tributes without doing some shopping around to see about the others first. Talk about frustrating beyond belief. To top it all off the Sponsors seemed to be orbiting where I sat with Taftan, but didn't dare get close enough for me to do any business with them. Eying us for a few seconds the Capitol citizens would then disappear back into the anonymous sea of faces.

A sudden idea struck me, "Taftan, can you believe that Maysilee Donnor? When I saw what she did I nearly spit my drink out all over the carpet!"

Confused for a second, Taftan tried to mimic my abnormal attitude, "I know! It was nearly all over my favorite pair of loafers! She's a wily one that Maysilee."

"That older girl from Twelve?" one of the Sponsors asked curiously and when I nodded the eclectically colored woman began to launch into a tale of how she nearly choked to death laughing at how the Careers didn't even notice her.

Slowly taking the bait of causal conversation, other Sponsors began to join us. They craved an inside scoop on the cunning Tributes of District Twelve. Secretly I hated how they made the whole conversation on the Games about themselves. But it was a very successful working theory to generate extra interest. Any Sponsor talking to Taftan and I would walk away knowing just enough about each of the Tributes to be left partially satisfied and entirely curious to know more.

Thankfully there were large screens so that we could monitor the latest updates of the Games. It kept the Sponsors chatting away. A couple of times a Citizen would come up and offer their sponsorship of one of the Tributes. Eventually though I saw a familiar face floating in the crowd. Shivers of either anticipation or fright crawled up my spine as I watched him make his way through the crowd. Or, I should say that the crowd made way for him.

"Who's he to get you so riled up?" Taftan whispered when he followed my line of sight.

Just then the man arrived in front of me, tall and handsome, radiating his own brand of cold superiority, "Titania."

Giving Taftan a silencing look, I spoke up, "Yes?"

The man held out an envelope, "I expect you to follow the instructions in this to the letter. I'll see you no later than the prescribed date and time."

My pulse kicked up into overdrive as I took the invitation from him, doing my best to keep my hands from shaking, "No problem."

Bowing his head slightly to Taftan and I, the man turned on heel and disappeared into the crowd. As soon as I was sure he was no longer anywhere in the market I ripped open the letter. The contents floored me.

"A _party._" I gasped with relief.

"What were you expecting it to be?" Taftan asked with a definitely worried tone.

"Taftan." my tone put him even more on edge, "That was _him._"

His blue eye widened in horrible realization, "You mean...?"

"_Him._" I nodded.

"What was _he_ doing here?"

I held up the letter, "To invite me to a tasteful semi-formal party."

"Do you think it means...?"

Part of me wanted to put my head in my hands and cry, but I'd never let it happen here, in the middle of the Capitol market, "To be honest, I have no idea what goes on in that man's head."

"So it's possibly _just_ a party?"

Shivering from an invisible cold, I looked at the crinkling letter clutched in my hands, "I doubt anything Athanasios Snow does is simply what it appears to be."


	8. Emergency Meeting With You The Readers

**EMERGENCY FANFICTION MEETING!**

Big news: I went back and touched up "The Other Victor". The _whole_ thing. In fact there is a crowning scene now between Titania and President Snow. Little things were added, cheesy sentences and half thoughts were rewritten, and I basically revamped the entire first story. There is two things that I just couldn't bring myself to edit though because they were essentially perfect in my mind: Wren and Bay's death scenes. However the awkwardness of the goodbye scene in District Twelve with Taftan has been addressed.

The Other News: I know I've mentioned it before, a long time ago at the end of chapter twenty-three of "The Other Victor", but I'm also an artist. Artist as in paintings, graphite, tablets, colored pencils, and eraser compositions. For the first time since that mention in TOV I've actually got one of my pieces surrounding The Victor Saga (or at least that's what I've been calling it behind your backs) up on a site called Deviantart. The afore mentioned crowning scene that I advise you all to go back and look at. It's a worthy tidbit I'm sorry I didn't include in the original chapter. Also I'm working on uploading another piece that is staged just after Titania almost dies of hypothermia and Haymitch thinks he's lost her. Type in "Titania Fellcrest" into the search bar and it'll probably be one of only two results.

The Lost News: Chapter Eight is coming along smoothly, though I did have a rough patch with it at first. Same rough patch I go through every time I kill off a character. Yes, I said the four letter "k" word. That's all you're getting from me though.

**In the epic diction of River Song "_Spoi-lers_."**


	9. Chapter 8 The Ruler And The Killer

**More parties, odd conversations, and Snow the white with lips that smell like blood. It's going to be a bumpy ride.**

**WARNING: character death prevalent in the chapter below.  
**

* * *

"Isn't this just the kind of exposure we need?" Alvis asked from my right, the slightly crumpled invitation to Athanasios' party held up so there was no doubt to what he was referring.

"A small tasteful party over the river and through the woods is hardly exposure." I argued back.

Indubitably he was ignoring the not-so-subtle hints I'd been dropping all morning that I didn't want to even consider going to this little shindig. In fact, I had a list going of things I didn't want to do that were likely to happen anyways. First thing was going to Haymitch's funeral. The party was right below that.

Across the table from where I sat, Taftan was silently watching our little back and forth. Unlike Alvis, he supported my not wanting to go to this party. Truthfully Taftan was almost too adamant that I not go. Like he was afraid I'd actually like it if I went. Despite this, Taftan had stayed silent during my conversation, eating his lunch without the slightest peep. The delectable smelling kebab on his plate was nearly finished whereas I had yet to even taste mine.

"_Titania,_ tasteful here means only the very _powerful_ and _influential_ will be going. We could _use_ sponsors like that." Alvis reminded me.

"As if I didn't know and worry about that already." I grumbled under my breath, toying with the food on my plate.

Shooting me a stern look, Alvis continued with an tone that told me this conversation was over, "You're _going_. Now, do you want _me_ to tell Delphin you'll be needing a new dress?"

"Sure." I sighed.

Alvis set the invite down on the table, wiped his mouth, and excused himself from the table. I finally got my first bite of food as he rang up the elevator and disappeared inside. Someday I'd find whoever made my food here in the Capitol and coherce some recipes off of him.

As soon as Alvis was gone Taftan spoke up in a confused tone, "What was that?"

Mouth full of lamb and mild peppers I raised an eyebrow.

"Where's the Titania I know? The one who fights tooth and nail before she's forced into anything? You just sort of rolled over and asked him to rub your belly." Taftan's eyebrows pinched together slightly.

"Part of it is that on some points there's no reason to fight with Alvis. He's right that we need some Sponsors like those that will be at the party. The other part is that I wanted him to shut up so I could eat." I growled moodily.

It had been a rough night last night. I'd had a bad feeling about the Arena. The whole thing just looked too good to be true. Briare had confirmed my suspicions when she'd eaten some raspberries that she had picked. And died. Day two of the Hunger Games and Briare gets fatally poisoned. What was I going to tell the Morningway's when I got back? _Ooo, bit of bad luck there; maybe next time it'll be better?_ I had let Briare down. It was my job to see these sort of things coming and warn my Tributes.

Luckily I'd warned Haymitch, Maysilee, and Slade in the nick of time. But it was still at the price of sweet little Briare. The memory of her rubbing her eyes the other morning when we all slept in my room popped into my mind.

_What's going on? _Briare had said then. The same thing she'd probably said when she was dying.

Clutching my stomach, I scrambled away from the table. Leaning against the wall, the few bites of lunch I'd eaten ended up on the floor. Waves of nausea crashed over me. How was I supposed to _cope_ with this? It was my Games all over again! Why couldn't the people close to me stop _dying?!_

Taftan gently led me into the bathroom and held my curly blonde hair out of the way, "Easy now."

Twice more I vomited. The whole time Taftan stayed by my side, rubbing my back gently, telling me it would be okay soon. Once he was sure I wasn't going to hurl all over the floor again, Taftan took me into my room and gave me a glass of water. Tucking me in, Taftan sat on the edge of my bed and chuckled.

"This is familiar. Me tucking you into bed."

Despite my sullen mood I couldn't help a small smile as I rolled to face away from him, "Yeah. Those were the days."

A long silence fell between us. It took me a few minutes to break out of the gloomy thoughts swallowing me to realize that Taftan was staring at me. Propping myself on an elbow I watched him as he watched me. It was kind of awkward but his handsome features were serious. Watching him for a moment I could see he was struggling with saying something. Eventually he'd get around to saying it.

"Titania... there's something I think you ought—"

The door to my room was thrown open and Alvis marched in with a determined set to his jaw. Misreading the moment slightly, Alvis grabbed my hand and dragged me out of bed. Lecturing me about how pretending to be sick wasn't going to get me out of the party, Alvis pulled me into the front room. An Avox must have cleaned up my sick because the room smelled like the sterile cleaner used at the Capitol hospital. Delphin sat on the long couch that faced the television. His white hair was in small curls today strangely enough.

Seeing me, he immediately stood and pulled out a measuring tape, "Hey, it's been a while."

"I suppose it has." I injected some enthusiasm into my voice.

Taking a measurement of my waist, Delphin frowned, "I knew it."

"What?" Taftan asked curiously.

"She's lost weight." Delphin shrugged with a slightly worried expression, "Be careful. Your weight was perfect before, Titania; if you lose much more it'll start to really show."

"You memorized her waist size?" Taftan was barely containing the disgust in his voice.

"He has to." I interrupted, "Delphin makes all of my outfits and knowing my measurements is imperative to that."

Taftan blushed lightly with a sheepish expression, "Right."

Seemingly unaffected, Delphin soldiered on with a fascinated expression, "I was thinking royal midnight blue, a big scoop in the neckline that rests on the edges of your shoulders in a half-sleeve, and a hemline that goes from your right knee to your left ankle? That sound good?"

"Flawless." I smiled.

"Here, _here_." Alvis agreed.

Nodding, a sudden bout of shyness gripping him, Delphin slipped his measuring tape into the chest pocket of his burgundy suit jacket, "Well, uh, I ought to get to work."

Noticing he was rubbing the right pocket on his slacks, I held out my hand, "I'm guessing that's for me?"

Shocked, Delphin pulled out a bit of paper from his pocket and held it out to me. It was a picture for Gea's magazine. An article that starred me, a before and after the Hunger Games transformation sort of thing. One picture was of me in the iridescent dress I'd worn to my Reaping, the second was the white dress I wore for my Victor interview and the third was a photo shoot of me modeling a mind numbingly bright teal cocktail dress for her new line of evening wear.

Then Delphin handed me a pen, "Will you sign it? I know it's unconventional for Victors to be signing things for Capitol citizens, but it would mean a lot to me."

Smiling sweetly I nodded, "Just a second."

_Dear Dephin,_

_You're probably the best stylist District Twelve will ever have. I'm glad you got assigned to us. Hopefully next year when you are reasigned you get a another great batch of Tributes. You deserve it._

_Titania Fellcrest_

When he read my small neat print I thought Delphin would pass out, he was hardly able to say, "Thanks. This is _amazing_." He said one last thing before disappearing into the elevator, "You know I'd be your stylist each time, don't you?"

"He's a _sweet_ man." Alvis said with a certain level of appreciation.

"Yeah." I whispered as my mood plummeted. Sweet things tended to burn up in the atmosphere of my crazy world. For a second I looked at Taftan and seriously wondered how he had survived entry. Then it hit me. Taftan had been a fixture in my life before all this fame and horror. So the question wasn't how Taftan had survived entry, it was how long he would be able to withstand being inside the unforgiving environment?

That night before dinner I tried to lighten up a bit. Another Hunger Games update was playing. In a moment of wise foresight Taftan had asked one of the Avoxes to bring me a fair sized empty bowl just in case I needed to throw up again. We curled up together on the luxurious couch and I rested my head against his shoulder as he absentmindedly played with one of my golden curls. Occasionally he'd squeeze my hand in support the way Haymitch did when crowds started to make my crazy side come out. It was nice to have Taftan here. Things were so much easier to bare when he was around.

All day yesterday tributes dropped like flies from the various poisons in the Arena. The plant-life the groundwater and the wildlife were all toxic. In fact the big Career pack had only killed one boy from six who'd been wandering around aimlessly on his own. Including Briare five players died.

There had also been a moment where Haymitch stumbled upon a burrow of golden squirrels. Apparently they'd been carnivorous because when a couple got a good hold on him they didn't just bite him but took away a mouthful. Haymitch'd had to run a whole quarter mile to get away from the furry little beasts. Luckily he had some medicine in his backpack that stopped the bleeding and was doing a fair job healing him.

Speaking of Haymitch, he popped up live on screen. Nothing serious so far, just climbing a trail up a ridge. A small clearing in the trees opened up. I could tell from the look on Haymitch's tired face that this was where he was going to rest for the night. He trudged over to a fair sized rock the size of two stacked pillows and flopped down on it. Much to our shock and confusion the rock collapsed.

"Oo. That's really bad luck." Caesar chuckled, "Looks like this tribute just crushed the nest of the Antennox."

"The odds aren't in his favor." Claudius Templesmith agreed, "According to this report from the Greich Hospital, a person the height and weight this tribute can only withstand five stings before succumbing to the Antennox's poison."

"Let's go back to the action to see how he's managing." Caesar suggested.

Springing away from the nest, Haymitch watched it carefully. A small number of vibrantly blue and purple butterflies crawled out from the broken nest. Instantly they took to the air on gossamer wings and began to flit over to Haymitch in a beautiful cloud that hummed lightly like far off violins. Grey eyes widening in a mixture of fear and interest my boyfriend stood momentarily transfixed by the impossibly stunning creatures. Even I felt a little hypnotized by the swarm from my view through the television screen. How could the Antennox be as bad as Caesar said? They looked too fragile, too pretty, heck they even _sounded_ too delicate to deserve such a reputation.

Then Haymitch got stung. Apparently it really hurt because it jolted him out of his trance. Swatting at the insects, Haymitch sprinted for the trail. At first it was easy to see each time he was stung. Haymitch jumped practically five feet in the air when the Antennox got him. Two, three, four times later Haymitch's reaction to the stings were getting harder to perceive. With every prick his moves became more sluggish.

This couldn't be happening. It couldn't end like this. Was this Snow's idea of torture? Have all my tributes get poisoned to death the same way I had?

"Run you idiot! _Run!_" I screeched, the only thing keeping me from jumping up and begging was Taftan's gentle yet firm grip on my shoulder.

But Haymitch was barely managing to stumble up the trail. His eyes were glazed over like he had a fever. The Antennox gathered together tighter as if they were coordinating a strike. My heart felt like it was trying to suicidally impale itself against my ribs.

Then the Antennox simply stopped chasing him. Just like that the swarm gave up and flew off. Looking behind him, Haymitch saw them retreating, and collapsed face first on the trail. Horror flooded me. Had the Antennox stopped chasing him because they knew he was a dead man?

"Tough call here, Claudius." Caesar mulled thoughtfully, "Only time will tell if this young man will make it."

"I don't know which way it will swing, Caesar, but I think all Panem will agree his odds aren't good."

The update ended and the screen shut off. I didn't know what I was feeling inside. Fear surely. A sense that I might have already lost Haymitch. A bright flicker of hope that my boyfriend could still survive. And a cloying sense of deep rooted hatred for everything Capitol that I usually kept buried. It was better buried. But there was something else coursing through my veins, making it impossible to sit still.

"Well," my clipped speech broke the silence, "I'm off to get some sponsors it seems."

"Don't forget the _pager_ this time." Alvis reminded me in that half complaining half nagging way only he could manage.

Angrily I grabbed the hunk of technology and headed down the elevator. The stupid thing would let me know if one of my tributes were in mortal peril, how much money I had in reserve for my tributes, how many sponsors had donated, what their names were, and it even allowed Alvis to let me know when he caught wind of a social event that I'd need to attend. And I hated the pager almost as much as I hated President Snow.

I felt the elevator slow and couldn't stop an exasperated huff. Great, now I'd have to pretend to be in a good mood in front of a fellow Victor as well as the whole Capitol population. The doors opened to reveal Ajax and his mentoring partner, who I could never remember the name of, dressed up in party garb. She was kind, but if memory serves me, the woman had been completely ruthless during her Games ten years ago. I made it a habit of not saying much in her presence.

At one point in the quiet ride to the lobby Ajax leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I'm sorry about Haymitch."

"Don't start. Every capitol citizen is going to be saying the same thing." I hissed back.

"No." Ajax said firmly, and leaned closer to me, "I meant I'm sorry he's even here."

Throat clenching with sadness and appreciation for my friend, I gave him a silent nod. This is why I liked Ajax. Easy going, loved a good joke, picked up on the little stuff, and despite his childish attitude at times, was quite tactful. When the doors opened Ajax bid me goodnight as he escorted his partner away into the artificially lit Capitol night.

If I said I knew what happened that night I'd be lying. I hadn't eaten dinner so I went to the Capitol market to see if they had something I could eat there. A restaurant manager offered me some free samples of new dishes he was working on. Soon a hoard of people were lined up outside the shop to come and see me. It was kinda freaky having so many people slavering to shake my hand and exchange names. Delphin of all people showed up and had the restaurant owner put on some strange kind of music that must be popular in the Capitol.

He gabbed my hand, pulled me from my table, "Do you trust me?"

He'd never let me down in the short time I'd known him so I decided to give whatever he had in mind a whirl, "Yes."

The two of us began spinning and twirling around the restaurant, gracefully dodging tables while we danced. At first I couldn't help but planning on how I'd get him back for this kind of betrayal. During my fitting for the interviews I had told Delphin how much I hated dancing in front of people. In fact, I hated dancing in front of anyone except my family. Naturaly I was going to feel such abject dislike for the man at that moment.

Then I realized that the crowd was taking a keen interest to what we were doing. The full force of what I was willing to do to get sponsors to save Haymitch's life hit me in the gut like a sledgehammer. I'd dance like a puppet, sing an aria in front of the whole nation, I'd probably even pledge my undying loyalty to the Capitol, which hadn't made my list of things to do. Or even the list of things to consider doing. So I began to put my best effort into the dance Delphin led me into. I even plastered a happy, slightly flirty face on as I grabbed a beautiful red flower from a nearby table and put it between my teeth. That really got the Citizen's watching us hollering. When we finished our dance, I was mobbed. Not figuratively, but a literal hoard of eclectic people swamped me. In minutes I had enough sponsors to keep my tributes fed for a week, which said something considering how the price for food to be sent into the arena went up each day. If I juggled things a bit I had plenty to buy Haymitch the antitoxin he needed and keep my tributes fed for the next couple of days.

This kind of thing never happened. Ever. Which made me wonder if Delphin, who knew that I'd at least been dating Haymitch before the Games, had organized those people to come and see me. It implied the restaurant owner had been in on the whole thing as well. It was so spur of the moment and it touched me to the very center of my being. I would never be able to repay Delphin for what he'd just done for me.

Going straight to the Parachute Station, or at least that's what we Mentor's called the place we ordered the packages we sent into the Arena, I checked my pager. Haymitch had woken up long enough to hide in a clump of bushes. The tension leaving my body was so instantaneous that I had to lean against a wall. Haymitch was alive. For now. I touched the slick surface of the touch screen and scrolled through what I needed. According to the information available on the antitoxin for the Antennox, Haymitch would be pretty close to normal again within twenty four hours of use. A bright smile crossed my face as I finished the order. Another day down. One step closer to my boyfriend coming home. I knew the two of us wouldn't be allowed to be together in the long run, but that didn't stop me from wanting to try.

Despite the nightmares I had later that night, I felt more rested than I had since before the Reaping. The morning and afternoon of the next day were also oddly peaceful. No one in the Arena died. My tributes all received the food rations they needed for the day. Delphin had me in and out of my fitting for the dress I'd wear that night in record time. Only one thing had been off: Taftan. The entire day he'd been itching to tell me what he'd been about to tell me when Alvis interrupted us yesterday. However, he kept his lips closed on the subject as we watched Haymitch recover, Maysilee steal from the Career's stash of medical supplies, and Slade march his way up the mountain after a smaller tribute who'd manager to steal his canteen.

Things didn't start to go wrong until I arrived at the designated penthouse for Athanasios' party. It was instantly apparent that Delphin had done almost too good of a job on my dress. I was attracting way more attention than I ever wanted. Everyone had their eyes pinned on me with a sort of jealousy. Some just wanted my dress, but there was a fair number who wanted _me._ It took everything I had to not shiver under their uncomfortable gaze.

"I see you know how to be punctual." Athanasios smirked lightly, appearing at my side in a beautifully simple black dress-coat and dove grey slacks.

"And I see my designer had sense to not dress me according to the standards in your invite." I nodded as my eyes scanned the very formally dressed crowd.

"For the Capitol, this is semi-formal." he chuckled lightly, there was something about it that let me know he was being completely serious, "Come, there are a few people just dying to meet you."

"Great." I muttered under my breath as he directed me around the penthouse.

Apparently everyone present was 'dying to meet me'. The people here at the party were those who had the most say in the country. They probably knew how desperate the situation in the Districts was and did nothing to change it. Our suffering benefited these people. Despite the deep running urge, I did nothing to avenge my people. I simply shook the hands of these animals and made pleasant chitchat.

That was about when I met the most powerful woman in Panem. She couldn't have been more than a couple years older than me. Her vibrant red hair flowed down her shoulder as those honey brown eyes hungrily followed me as Athanasios and I approached. If anyone had been dying to meet me, she was starving to.

"Last of all is the most radiant woman on earth, my wife Narcissa Snow."

Wait. _What?_ I must have heard him wrong. Even the Capitol citizens had to know how... wrong it was to introduce your wife the woman you'd be, for all intents and purposes, cheating on her with. However his expression looked serious and slightly, I don't know, smitten?

"So this is the girl with the metal." she purred through blood red lips, "Oh, you certainly weren't joking that she's more beautiful in person, Athanasios."

She talked about me like I wasn't even there.

"Have I _ever_ lied to you darling?" Athanasios crooned. Ew. I hadn't imagined this conversation could get any more awkward until he'd used that tone of voice. Shivers clawed their way down my spine at the thought of him using that voice on me someday.

"Yes." Narcissa shot him back a sexy smile, "Now stop being rude."

He cleared his throat, "Right, darling. Titania, as I said, this is my wife Narcissa Snow. Darling, this is the one and only Titania Fellcrest, and as of eight days ago she is my Mistress."

"Pleasure." Everything about this situation was so incredibly wrong it was the only word I could manage.

"Charmed, I'm sure." Narcissa smiled knowingly, as if she'd seen straight through me the entire time I'd been in the Games.

I could feel his presence before I saw him. President Snow came up to Athanasios and asked him if he could steal me for a moment. I couldn't tell which prospect creeped me out more. Another one-on-one conversation with Snow or talking to his son's wife. Considering I had no choice but to follow Snow though didn't leave me with a lot of time to ponder this.

My mind became a frantic jumble as I followed him out onto the balcony of the penthouse. Had I done something to get myself into trouble? The comment I'd made during training about death, what if he'd taken offense somehow? Maybe he was just unhappy that Haymitch hadn't died yet?

These thoughts faded into the background when Snow asked, "You wouldn't lie to me would you, Titania?"

Now was the time to choose my words carefully, "I wouldn't try to."

"Then we are at a mutual understanding." Snow smiled in his incomparably chilling way.

"It seems so."

Snow frowned slightly as he turned to look out over the Capitol skyline, "You must know how my son picking you as his Mistress is a tad worrisome."

"I hope it hasn't cost you any sleep." I turned to look out into the distance as well. The two of us alone knew what I secretly meant. It was my way of asking if I was in the trouble he'd promised to me when I was crowned. A wonderfully cool breeze blew across my suddenly hot skin.

"Not quite." Snow's face became unreadable, "But we all will be treading a little more carefully from now on."

Not trusting my voice, I nodded. Could he really be saying what I thought he was? That I was now in a position where he couldn't hurt me? If Snow did hurt me now I assume that would put a hitch in his son's plans for me and cause quite a strain on them. Perhaps Athanasios would even retaliate somehow. At the same time, if Athanasios screwed up then I had a feeling Snow would have no problem taking it out on me. And if I did something to irk either of them... I didn't want to think what that would mean. It was shaky ground to stand on, especially with such undesirable company, but it was the safest I'd been since being Reaped two years ago.

"It's time for another update, Ms. Fellcrest." Snow said in a voice as inscrutable as his expression.

I took this as a dismissal, "You're right, I should go back inside."

As I turned I caught sight of the screen inside and stopped. Why were the Gamemakers showing an aerial shot of the mountain? Never, in any Games had there been a birds eye view. It was too inconceivable to think of how they were hiding that camera.

Almost instantaneously the was an explosion. The whole top of the mountain, or rather, volcano, shot skyward and rained back down. Red hot lava spilled down the sides. The cameras cut to a tribute. Slade. A large gash on his forehead was poring blood down his face as he raced down the mountain. It was futile. The lava got closer and closer until it swept him up. Then he started screaming.

Oh the screaming. Every muscle in my body went rigid with recognition. I'd only heard screams like that once before. In the arena when I'd used the liquid fire on the boy from District Four. Those unhinged howls of agony cut off. Slade's body wasn't anywhere to be seen in the flood of fire. There wouldn't be a single scrap for his parents to bury. He was burnt to ashes and mixed in with molten rock.

"Like I said Ms. Fellcrest." Snow whispered quietly from his unchanged position behind me, "_Everyone_ will have to be more careful."

It dawned on me at last that Snow had planned this entire evening. He'd probably insisted Athanasios bring me. All so this wretched man could warn me that he might not be able to injure me physically he could still hurt me emotionally with ease. What happened next was so incredibly spontaneous and brave.

And stupid.

I spun to face the President, the most powerful man in the world, who turned at the same time I did, and pored all the hate and fury and cold determination into my face that I usually kept so bottled up. For the first time in my life I let this disgusting excuse for a human being see exactly how I felt about him. The smallest flicker of fear sparked to life in Snow's eyes. He was probably realizing how close he was standing to a killer. One he'd not only created, but one he'd just peeved off. He might even realize that I would have no problem whatsoever killing him at the moment even if it meant my own death.

My words came out cold and weighted, "Something we both need to keep in mind."

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**I have to say the last part is my favorite. It actually felt so incredibly satisfying to write.**


	10. Chapter 9 For Better Or Worse

**Here is the chapter you've been asking for! A long chapter to say sorry for taking so darn long.**

* * *

It took hours to pull myself together. I'd no sooner left Athanasios' party than the gravity of what happened hit me. Slade was dead now too. The volcano had mercilessly wiped out a dozen tributes, including half of the Career pack, and was forcing the other players to hide in the woods. Snow had me invited to the party so he could be there when I watched the fire sweep over the landscape. What had my reaction been? To threaten his life.

"What's wrong?" Taftan asked as soon as I entered District Twelve's loft.

"I must be some special kind of idiot." I said shakily.

And I _was_ an idiot. President Snow had no sooner warned me that he would readily strike at me through those I loved before I'd very clearly threatened his life. There was only a few questions left unanswered. Who was his next victim? When would they die? Where? Of course the truth of the matter was horrifying and simple: anyone, any time, anywhere.

Sensing my extreme distress, Taftan gabbed my hand and led me into my room, sat me on my bed, and knelt in front of me with his large warm hands wrapped around my comparably small ones, "Tell me everything."

Instantly tears began to flow down my face and I began to sob hysterically. My best friend wasted no time and pulled me into his arms. All the bravery and strength I'd felt hours ago had washed away, leaving behind a bitter cracked husk of fear and teary regret. I felt pathetic, crying uncontrollably off and on for hours. However, Taftan patiently took me into his arms and rubbed my back comfortingly each time. Luckily I didn't break down when I changed out of my dress because both Taftan and I were shy about indecency.

Changed and free of make-up, all I wanted to do was tell my best friend how royally I'd screwed up. But, for the first time in the three years I'd known him, I found myself incapable of telling Taftan what the matter was. Unable to say tell my tale, I whispered something I'd wondered about since I let him go.

"W-why d-do you love m-me? Y-you hav-ve ever-ry reas-son t-to h-hate me." I wept into his shoulder.

Taftan stiffened slightly, "I have no reason to hate you, Titania. You broke up with me because you couldn't handle being so close to people and I was the complete dunce who gave up too easily. I couldn't really blame you for finding someone who helped you heal, now could I?"

I stood there, just gripping the front of his shirt, and trembled head to toe as the cotton continued to soak up my tears. Thankfully I could hide my face in my best friend's collarbone or he would have seen the shame there. Everything he'd said was true— except the part about him being a dunce— but it didn't stop me from feeling guilty.

"But I have every reason to love you, my damp little daisy." Taftan kissed my hair, "Why don't you and I order some food and just hang out? It's been too long since we've done something not Hunger Games related."

"It's three in the morning and neither of us have slept." I pointed out reluctantly, stepping away from him slightly; hanging out sounded like the perfect remedy for my fears.

"I'm a baker and your a Victor," Taftan laughed, his wide shoulders shaking because of it, "since when was sleep relevant?"

And just like that, my mood changed to fit his happy and carefree vibe, "Fair enough."

"So what do you want to do?" Taftan asked with a smile.

"We're going to need a blanket, plenty of food, two pitchers of hot chocolate, and a good view." I listed off on my fingers.

The both of us knocked off everything on my list in only a couple of minutes. We set a blanket on the balcony that overlooked the Capitol skyline, and enjoyed the fruit platter we'd ordered as the horizon began to take on a grayish hue. The both of us were so relaxed that it wasn't long before we stretched out on the balcony. Taftan's legs settled down next to me from my rested position with my head on his flat stomach.

"Okay, this papaya fruit is disgusting." I frowned and held some up for Taftan so he could decide for himself.

He leaned forward and took a bite, scrunching his nose, "I agree. Gross."

For a couple minutes we simply ate and relaxed, watching the sun slowly rise. The fear I'd felt earlier was now hidden in a dark crevice of my mind. This is how it always was— or at least when I wasn't having a meltdown— between Taftan and I. How things could have been.

Apparently he was thinking along the same lines, "Is this how we would have spent our days, the two of us?"

I shrugged lightly, "Dunno. It depends on if I was Reaped or not in this scenario of yours."

Taftan was thoughtfully silent for a bit, "Does it matter? I could see us eating fruit and watching the sun rise either way."

He didn't fool me. Taftan most certainly couldn't lie or deny it. I knew which he preferred.

"Fine. Let's plunge into this fantasy world you frequently indulge, where I was never Reaped." I say with a certain amount of bitterness. Not that I had to explain my tone to him. By now my best friend knew how I felt about this particular topic. It hurt too much to think about how my life could have been if not for the Games.

Taftan spoke after an unsure pause,"We'd be on the bakery rooftop, eating the blackberries you would have brought in from Outside. We'd watch the sun rise up over the pines on the horizon."

"Colby would tease us on our way up to the roof." I added, a smile just barely touching my lips.

Taftan nodded in agreement, an infectious grin encouraging my own, "Your brothers would tease us when I picked you up at the shop before that. Unless your Mother is working the counter, she wouldn't tolerate that."

I snorted, "Matchmaker is a more accurate term than Mother."

"She loves you." Taftan gave me a truly happy smile as the sun finally peaked over the horizon; it was hard to tell which was more radiant.

"Loves me enough that if we'd still been together she'd have married me off to you the minute I turned sixteen." I scoffed good-naturedly despite the fact it was completely true.

"I don't doubt it." he shook his head and began to twirl a curly lock of my golden hair around his finger, an absentminded habit I noticed after winning the Games. Almost as if he needed physical proof I still existed. Worried that I might be something he conjured up in his head.

"So we'd eat blackberries on the roof in the summer, and on October first we'd be married." I thought aloud pursing my lips in thought, "Would we have kids in this fantasy?"

He shrugged, "Well, I know I want kids someday, so it depends on you."

I sit up and turn to face Taftan with a deadpan expression, "Oh, I want a dozen at least."

My friend gaped like a fish out of water, "I'm s-sorry, w-what?"

I threw back my head and laughed so hard it brought tears to my eyes, "Don't worry, I'd never have a dozen kids— way too many mouths to feed."

"Three?" the poor fellow asked in obvious relief.

"Three." I nod, the laughter leaving me as quickly as it came, "Can we stop this game now?"

Taftan studied my face for a moment and nodded, "We can stop."

I leaned back down against him and watched the sun rise up over the tall Capitol buildings. How had I forgotten in the last couple days that being around Taftan Mellark could be so comfortable? The Hunger Games. They always got in the way when I needed my best friend the most.

Turning over, sleepy at last, I rested my head against Taftan's flat stomach and started to drift off. After a while Taftan's hand began to stroke my long blonde hair. Subconsciously I snuggled in closer to him. My best friend's arms slipped around me and I was so warm and at ease that I instantly drifted off into dreamless sleep.

Eventually, when I woke up, I knew it was time to get started on the long day ahead. Yet at the same time, I didn't want to break this relaxed spell that hung over us by leaving the balcony. Too few chances to do what I wanted to do came my way and hanging out with my best friend was too good to pass up.

It ended up being Taftan who moved away first. The sun had risen well over the horizon now and a new day was spread out for me to take by the horns. I'd have to send Haymitch and Maysilee their food and water rations at lunch time, any medicine needed, and a whole myriad of things that would help them. Surely another stupid party was tonight; the Capitol people loved to hold parties every night during the Hunger Games. Alvis no doubt would arrive within the next half hour which only meant I'd have to make small talk every waking moment for the rest of the day. And don't let me forget that somewhere in between the Galas and fame that Snow was going to kill someone to get back at me for threatening him. Yippy.

"I'm heading down to the Training Center for a bit!" I hollered to Taftan who'd disappeared while I was musing, "Let Alvis know I have my stupid pager!"

"Alright!" he called back, roaring with laughter for some odd reason.

Deciding everyone needed a little time to be crazy I didn't question his strange mood and hopped into the elevator. First thing's first, I would get a good workout in to clear my head of the confusing words bouncing around in my skull. How had those words my friend told me in the fog of sleep stuck so clearly in my head? The confined space of the elevator began to suffocate me and I was grateful when the doors opened up to the impeccably large underground training room.

Feeling sentimental, I wandered over to the archery station. Since the tributes were in the Arena there was no one manning the stations anymore. Only the Victors came here at this point to work off a little steam. Pulling back on the string of the bow I'd picked up, I aimed and hit the closest target through the heart. Arrow after arrow landed in it's chest until I felt a little better. Thank you Bay Nortek for giving me good memories of this activity.

I moved onto an intense session of agility and knife throwing simultaneously soon after. Stretches, rope climbing, and even some spear throwing found their way into my workout. I was blissfully uninterrupted during in the Training Center. In fact, I so enjoyed being alone and active that I lost track of time. I didn't bother to clean up the massacre of dummies on the floor when finished because if I didn't hurry back to the loft I'd miss part of the Hunger Games. And that would be a real shame.

By the time I made it back up to District Twelve's loft I had just barely enough time for a quick shower and change before the first update of the day. No deaths to report. Surely this was the opposite of the desired result the Gamemakers had been aiming for. Every year in the past told an unspoken rule that I had seen up close and personal. If you drive a lot of tributes into the same area they end up killing each other off quicker. But they apparently don't if you force them together using a volcano.

It took me all of ten seconds to realize it was probably because of the poisonous smog caused by the burning trees that the lava had flamed. Ironically the poisonous trees and plants opposite the volcano helped give some sort of protection from the deadly smoke. Both Haymitch and Maysilee were smart enough to use their shirts to cover their mouths and noses. At least I wouldn't have to scrape together money for rebreathers like I saw the Career tributes receiving. Wow they could be dense sometimes.

The screen clicked off and Alvis ushered me and Taftan to the dining table for lunch. Picking at my food a bit, I forced myself to eat. If I could survive playing the Games, I could surely survive watching them and in order to do that I would have to ingest something at one point. This got me identical approving looks from both my escort and my best friend.

After lunch Alvis, Taftan, and I went to the market to knock a few things off of our to-do list. While they went Sponsor hunting I headed over to the Parachute Station where a few other Victors were placing their orders. Cleon was there and despite the fact that I broke his collar bone twice we sort of walked towards each other at the same time and began some idle chatter. Well, what passed for idle chatter in his mind anyways. He kept alluding to how his tributes were likely to annihilate everyone this year and even apologized that my tributes wouldn't pose much of a threat.

One of the mentors from Six started laughing at how the tributes from Two were more likely to asphyxiate than annihilate. This made us all laugh except for Cleon who decked the guy. Everyone except Six saw it coming and no one stepped in to stop Cleon. It was sort of an unspoken rule. If you're either brave or stupid enough to take a shot at another mentor then don't be surprised if you end up with some missing teeth.

Shaking my head sadly, I turned and ordered Haymitch and Maysilee's food and water rations. One of the other Mentors cracked a joke when I finished. Something about being safe to watch other people starve to death. Cleon obviously didn't get why everyone was laughing and started to take offense so the others cleared out before anyone else got one of his dinner plate fists jammed down their throat.

"Were they laughing at me?" Cleon huffed; his knuckles cracked from the force of his hands balling up, and I was glad the two of us were never in the Games together.

"No it's just an Outer-District thing." I shrugged. Even after a person wins the games they tend to fit into either one of two groups: the Careers and the Non-Careers. All the Mentors treated me like I was a Career but it didn't change the fact that I was from the District farthest from the Capitol. I alone bridged the gap between the groups.

A thought struck me. At home in District Twelve, I was also the only one who bridged the gap between the Upper-District and Seam. I hadn't always been like this. When I was a kid growing up I was just like anyone else from the Upper-District. I went to school where I learned about coal, played outside with my friends, and believed that what my Mother told me about the Seam being a dangerous place was true. It wasn't until I was twelve that I changed. Not intentionally, but it sort of snuck up on me. I bridged the gap between Career and Non-Career, Upper-District and Seam, Capitol and District, and at times even life and death. Without meaning to I had become a neutral middle ground that everyone respected. And it was all because I met Haymitch.

Shaking my head to clear it, I found Alvis and Taftan chatting up some Capitol ladies over coffee. Just by looking at them I could see that they were the gossiping kind. My Father had joked once that there used to be three types of communication: telephone, telegraph, and tell-a-woman. He hadn't been serious, but sadly the joke told the truth. Sometimes gossip passed along faster than lightning. Which became obvious when the women spotted me as I sat down next to Taftan.

"Oh!" the one woman with a magenta feather boa around her shoulder gasped, hand over her heart, "Goodness me, Titania Fellcrest!"

The other one, who was decked out in some oddly complimentary green color and gold tattoos, tisked at her companion, "Pull yourself together Wyna, you're acting like a complete fool. This is exactly why we got kicked out of Yauza's party the night before last."

"It's been a while since that reaction has bothered me." I soothed with my trademark charming smile as I reached out for magenta's hand.

She reached across the table with much more self restraint than her initial reaction and shook my hand daintily, "It's such a pleasure to meet you at last. Your friend Alvis and I were just discussing a possible sponsorship for Maysilee Donnor."

"We don't want to talk about that now that we've got _you_ here," Green-and-gold gave Magenta a look I could only assume meant 'shut up', "we've been hearing some _very_ interesting things about _you_ Ms. Fellcrest."

"Something _appalling,_ I'm sure." Alvis smirked playfully.

The ladies started laughing and I followed. Taftan, who looked lost, attempted a chuckle that came out more like a worried cough. Not that our magenta and green friends noticed. They were too busy getting all the 'best gossip' from me. In the end I learned more about myself than I ever knew. Or, at least the Capitol's perception of me. And I walked away with plenty of Sponsorship money to share between Maysilee and Haymitch.

"I'm pretty sure Alvis was getting nowhere with those two until you showed up." Taftan whispered in my ear as the elevator rose towards the District Twelve loft.

"Gossip's worth it's weight in gold." I joked back, my lips donning a genuine smile.

"What _are_ you two murmuring about over there?" Alvis turned to look at Taftan and I, who blush instantly; this caused Alvis to smirk as we arrived at the loft, "A private matter, _hm?_ Titania Fellcrest, you protest it_ all_ too often, but you _do_ toy with boys' hearts."

Taftan gave me a confused look as Alvis exited the elevator, "What?"

I stood there, feeling like I'd been slapped, and wondering what to do next. I was with Taftan on this one. What the heck was Alvis going on about? I have one boyfriend and one best friend and I never let those lines blur. Or did I? Picnics on the balcony, watching the sun rise, cuddling up to watch the Games... those were things boyfriends were supposed to do. Was it possible I was toying with my best friend without even meaning to? In which case there was only one thing I could do. To set the record straight.

"I..." Looking over at Taftan, I could see now that he knew exactly what Alvis had been talking about and had been trying to hide it, "I'm turning in for the night. See you tomorrow."

A large warm hand caught my arm, "Wait."

I turned and met Taftan's blue eyes with my own and gave him an annoyed glare, "It has been a long day and I am tired."

His eyebrows etched themselves into worry, "Don't listen to Alvis. He doesn't have the slightest clue what you're going through."

"And you do?" I snapped, patience for anymore shenanigans wearing thin.

"I watched you go into the Hunger Games didn't I?"

My mood turned from sour to the bitter tang of regret, "I'm sorry."

Taftan gave me a sad smile as we stepped off the elevator, "Don't worry about it. I never told you how it felt for me to watch you in the Games, but it was downright terrifying."

"I felt the same way." I half-joked.

He a genuine smile crossed his face before it dropped back into the seriousness of our conversation, "The whole time you were gone I was on the edge of some nervous breakdown."

A hundred responses came to mind. Some would brush off his words with another joke, another would say he didn't hardly know what true fear was, others would pretend I sensed his distress. None however made it from my brain to my mouth. Somehow the correspondence between the two had been lost, leaving me totally mute.

Taftan was looked embarrassed, but continued, "When you made it into the final eight it was like... I couldn't breathe. You were so close to coming home. The reporters came flooding in because both your District Partner were still in the Games and despite how many times I told them I was your boyfriend no one wanted to hear it. They said there was no way you'd give up a looker like your partner for an okay guy like me." The hurt was plain in his face as we slumped down the walls across from each other, "All of a sudden it was like I didn't exist in your life anymore."

Finally I understood how betrayed Taftan must have felt. And for the first time in my life it wasn't someone else doing this to the person I loved, it was me. I was hurting Taftan and had been for a long time.

Taftan's foot nudged mine, bringing me back to the present, "I'll cut to the chase. Alvis doesn't know how broken and disjointed a person becomes when someone they love is in the Hunger Games. And because that person can't hold themselves together..." His gaze met mine with such a sacrificial lamb look on his face it broke my heart, "someone else has to."

We sat there outside the elevator just staring into the infinity of one another's eyes for what felt like eons. I didn't even realize that tears were beginning to trek down my face until my best friend crouched forward and wiped them off with his large warm thumbs. Those strong hands cradled my face like I was the most delicate thing ever created in the universe. It just made me feel worse.

Grabbing his wrists with my small hands I slowly pushed them away from my face, "Stop it. You knew exactly what Alvis was getting at back in the elevator. Don't lie about it either, I could see it in your face."

"All I know is that I'm trying to keep you from unraveling." Taftan said, frustration tinging his sadness, "And I'll do whatever it takes to do it."

"There are some things even you can't fix."

"This isn't one of those things."

"Maybe it is."

"It isn't. Last year you came back from Mentoring in worse shape than you've been the entire time I have been here helping you combined. You know it's the truth." Taftan pointed out.

Dang; he was right, "Be that as it may, I am going to bed now."

I walked down the hallway and gripped the doorknob when Taftan called out, "Wrong room, Titania."

"You can have my room tonight." I called back and entered the room Haymitch had been sleeping in before he was taken away to the Arena.

Everything had been cleaned, so I didn't necessarily understand why I was in there. The pillows and blankets wouldn't smell like him, he hadn't brought anything with him that might have been left behind, nothing about this place could remind me of him. And yet it made me feel, well, not better, but a little less like Haymitch was who knows how far away. Hating the Capitol clothes I was wearing, I stripped down to my underclothes and curled up beneath the covers. A memory, faint though it was, surfaced in my mind. Bay walking in on me sleeping in my underwear before the forty-eighth Games. He'd blushed so badly.

Smiling, I drifted off to sleep.

The sound of the Capitol anthem woke me up. Outside my window the sun was already well into the sky. It must be the ten-thirty Quarter Quell update already. _Crap!_ How on earth had I slept so long? My nightmares always made sleep impossible. I pulled on the clothes I'd worn the night before and made a mad dash for the main room where the flat screen was just starting to play the clips from last night.

The most interesting thing was three Careers making their way towards the edge of the Arena. Everyone else was trying to cure burns and lay lower than the slowly dissapating smoke. Luckily Haymitch and Maysilee had been far enough from the volcanic eruption they were among the few who hadn't gotten burns. The update was just about over and I let go of a breath I hadn't even known I'd been holding. My tributes were relatively safe.

Like a slap to the face, Caesar Flickerman suddenly exclaimed that there was some live action going on and the whole audience was looking at Haymitch Abernathy, dirty and sporting a plethora of small wounds, circling around the gigantic hedges that blocked him in his quest to... go wherever he was headed. Not even I knew the answer. The pack of three Careers were traveling towards right for Haymitch. Neither had a clue the other was headed in their direction.

Without looking away from the screen I drifted closer towards it like a ghost. I was so numb inside as I watched Haymitch's face morph into surprise. The three Careers appeared out of the brush and had him quickly surrounded. One of them, probably the leader, laughed coldly as Haymitch pulled out the Bowie knife he'd gotten from the Cornucopia.

"Looks like we're going to have fun with this one." he grinned manically and his partners chuckled.

"Like big fat kittens with a ball of string." Haymitch taunted, trying to play off their pride and cockiness, "I always figured you for house-cats."

The leader drew his heavy curved sword with ease and sprang at Haymitch. Grabbing the Leader's other arm, Haymitch swung him into a tree. An audible squelch could be heard as a jagged piece of tree-branch pierced the Career's chest. Turning towards the other Careers, Haymitch spun his knife easily. Apparently I wasn't the only one good with a knife.

After that the fight was surprisingly short. Something to do with tricking girl into spearing the other male through the diaphragm and then stabbing her in the heart. My sigh of relief turned into a gasp of surprise as a fist smashed into Haymitch's temple. The blow was hard enough to knock him to the ground.

The Career who'd been gored by the tree had broken the branch off the tree and was wearing it through his midsection to keep himself from bleeding to death. Carelessly he yanked the Bowie knife from his dead companion's chest. A pained glaze in his eyes did nothing to hide the bloodlust there.

"Just roll over like your mentor and cark it already, funny man." he snarled.

Simultaneously Haymitch and I bristled. Not many people in the Capitol believed that I had really died at the end of the forty-eighth Hunger Games. Those who did know were friends of mine or the surgeons who brought me back to life. It was a touchy subject that I wanted as few people to know about as possible. Apparently though, some people in the Districts had put two and two together. Suffocation followed by sudden stillness equals death.

Haymitch leapt to his feet like lightning and analyzed his opponent coldly before attacking. It was obvious he was trying to pull out the branch from his opponents midsection but he was having a hard time getting close enough. The Career was almost as good with that knife as Haymitch had been.

Catching him in the jaw with an elbow, the Career knocked Haymitch to the ground, and quickly pinned his arms. Haymitch tried to throw the Career off several different ways until the Bowie knife came to rest firmly against his throat. For the briefest moment I could see Haymitch thinking about how I had nearly died the same way two years ago. Pinned by a Career and so beyond hope of turning the tables.

That's when the Career convulsed and slumped over to the ground.

A cannon announced the Careers death as Haymitch scrambled a few feet from the body. A small dart sticking out of his shoulder blade. The cameras cut to Maysilee Donnor. She held a blowgun at the ready as she emerged from the foliage.

"We'd live longer with two of us." Maysilee said in a way that made me sure they had talked about this before.

Haymitch rubs his neck, blushing slightly, "Guess you just proved that. Allies?"

Maysilee's face breaks out into a brief genuine smile as she nods, "Otherwise I'd have to kill you."

They both laugh quietly as they gather their weapons and some extra supplies from the dead Careers before leaving the area. Haymitch was leading the way toward whatever he was searching for. Even though he was being cryptic, Maysilee decided to follow him in his quest for the time being and though she wasn't happy about Haymitch keeping something from her, decided it was best to leave it be for the day. Caesar and Claudius signed off and the footage ended.

I stood there in front of the blank tv for a whole five minutes before someone broke the silence.

"Well, it looks like we're still in the game." Alvis said from somewhere behind me.

I walked away to shower and change knowing that the Games had just taken a turn. For better of worse though I had no idea.

* * *

**Philippa: Ironically this is the chapter I'd been planning on Maysilee coming back in. Wish granted!**

**IMPORTANT! I wrote a one-shot of when Haymitch and Titania first meet in the Seam. If you are interested, please read it! The title is '_They Story of How We Met_'. I know, how original, but it fit really well.**


	11. Chapter 10 A Man's, Man's, Man's World

**Oh my goodness, I had no idea how I wanted this story to end until now. I mean, I had a vague idea of what I wanted, but now I have a plan. It'll blow your mind.**

**Also I feel it's important to let you all know that this story isn't an AU. It will follow the timeline set up by The Hunger Games series and go all the way into Post-Mockingjay. Some of you have been asking if it is, but no it isn't. That means, yes Haymitch will win the Quarter Quell. What happens after is the real mystery.**

* * *

"Why?"

It was a good question that no one seemed to have an answer to but Haymitch. Of all the places Haymitch could go in the Arena, he chose to try for the very edge of it. Even though I was closest to him, I had no idea what he was thinking. There was nothing at the edge of the Arena except for a force-field.

"Haymitch, why are we going to the edge of the Arena? The other tributes are back by the Cornucopia. You know, that big gold metal thing in the meadow."

Maysilee had asked this question probably a hundred times. Everyone watching wondered as well, but she was bound on asking until she annoyed him to death. Or he gave her the answer. Whichever came last.

"I know what the Cornucopia is." Haymitch grouched.

"I'm not so sure you do." she muttered under her breath as they skirted around a vibrant lilac bush.

A small smile played at the edge of my lips as I listened to them argue. Did he and I always sound like this? Grumpy, tired, and our patience waning? If so I can see why some people wondered if they needed to leave the room. We must constantly sound on the verge of some huge relationship ending argument.

"Can we continue our journey in silence? The more noise we make the more likely we are to get killed." Desperation was beginning to creep its way in.

"That requires other tributes being in the same area as us." she pointed out.

"Yes, but your voice carries."

"Oh." Maysilee looked worried for a second and then got angry, "And just how would you know?"

A slight echo from the surrounding area answered her.

"Like that." he said cockily.

"You set that up, didn't you?"

"Maybe." Haymitch smirked over his shoulder.

"You think you're so charming don't you?" Maysilee narrowed her eyes at the back of his head as they walked on, "Cause you're not."

Haymitch turned around with a crooked grin. It made my heart bleed a little to think of how far away he was from me right now. At least he wasn't alone anymore, but I would rather he'd partnered up with anyone other than Maysilee. After him admitting he liked her it made me worry a bit. What girlfriend didn't worry when her man was in a huge death trap and hanging out with a girl he had a crush on? But there's a lot of distance between worry and jealousy. Isn't there?

Eyes narrowing ever so slightly, Haymitch smiled wickedly. Oh. I knew that face. How could I not? I could practically hear the words he'd say next before they left his lips because they'd been directed at me so many times before.

"The blush on your face says otherwise."

"I'll shut up for a whole hour if you start walking now." Maysilee bribed, refusing to look him in the eyes.

Before she could take it back Haymitch continued on his way. I was almost sorry the footage of those two ended. Haymitch turned the Hunger Games into the Hardy-har-har Games. And laughter was a universal language every District understood. Each time an update came on Panem would get a face full of my snarky boyfriend and his new ally.

"There is another _party_ tonight." Alvis said absentmindedly as we watched the few remaining Careers argue about something none of us were particularly interested in. At the very least, sponsors were more entertained with Haymitch's wit than the Careers all babbling about something completely obscure.

"Great." I grumbled and shot him a careful look, "Say Alvis, you've been kind of cooped up here, do you want to go?"

"And leave you alone here with—"

"I won't be here." I interrupted quickly. Ever since Alvis had started to notice Taftan and I's history together I hadn't been able to avoid condescending glances and a lot of what I suppose were polite innuendos.

"Of _course_ not. You'll be at a 'luncheon' with _Athanasios Snow_."

Ah, there was no arguing this one, "What kind of lunch?"

The screen clicked off as the update ended and Alvis gave me an odd look, "_Casual._"

Did I here him right? "Alvis, nothing the Capitol does is casual. It's over the top and gaudy."

"And horrific." Taftan muttered under his breath, his first words of the morning.

Luckily Alvis hadn't heard, or we'd be 'grounded' in the loft for the rest of the Quell, "What a load of _rubbish_. It's not the _Capitol's_ fault the rest of Panem doesn't know how to throw a proper party."

I looked over at Taftan who appeared to be ready to crack Alvis' head open on the floor. I couldn't be sure if I was surprised or not. Taftan isn't the kind of person who got angry easily. On the other hand Alvis _did_ just insult the majority of the population for something they couldn't help. Either way it didn't matter. So it's up to me to prevent said head cracking unless I wanted to try and explain a dead escort to the officials.

As Taftan moved to stand I grabbed his muscled wrist in a death grip. Taftan looked at me and froze. I was giving him a new twist on an old Titania expression: a chilled glare with an infusion of implied threat. With a plop, he fell back into his chair as his knees buckled.

"What was _that?_" Alvis queried with a creepy smile, "Trouble in _paradise?_"

I released my grip on Taftan's arm and began to spread some jam on toast. Thankfully this got Alvis to shut up. Some people shouted when they were ready to punch someone, or began to clench their fists, or even began to gnash their teeth. Any other day and I would be doing all three. Not this time. While seated at the table, I tended to spread things on bread with ominously purposeful strokes. There was something about me holding any sort of knife that made people nervous.

"Lunch I'll do." I said as calmly as possible, "But I'm not going to the party tonight."

For once no one argued. After an admittedly late breakfast I wasn't all that hungry, but I dutifully dragged myself into something decent. I'm not sure my outfit qualified as casual per se. Then again, neither did his High and Mighty's.

"Titania." he nodded after he rolled down the window to the sleek car he'd just pulled up to the training center's curb in. A patterned gray and black vest over a white silk dress shirt were today's picks. Not even remotely casual.

"Athan." I nodded back and climbed in the passenger's side.

"What did you just call me?" he asked incredulously with one too perfect eyebrow raised.

"Not Your Highness if that's what you're after." I smiled cheekily.

"You surprise me. Pet names don't usually come until later." Athanasios smiled causing icy fingers to dance their way down my spine. He didn't wait for a response as he gunned the engine before peeling out onto the main road.

Gripping anything I could get my hands on I said a quiet prayer for this car ride to be incredibly short. The Prince drove like a crazed maniac. We'd have been hit about six different times in each intersection if it hadn't been for his car being incredibly nimble. At random Athanasios picked a restaurant and literally slid into a parking place. By then my breath was coming out in short, painful gasps of fear. Forget suffocation, I'd rather do that than ride with Athanasios ever again.

"Don't call me Athan." he instructed then sprang out of the car.

I waited a moment to gather my nerves before catching up to my lunch date. If Athanasios had driven like a maniac just to get back at me for calling him Athan, there was no telling what waited for me in the restaurant. _Don't be a club_, I begged fate as I glided through the front doors. There was no way I would dance with his Royal Pain-ness after his little stunt with the car.

Inside the restaurant was pretty low key for the Capitol. Everything was in toned down colors, thankfully not frying my eyes from sheer intensity. The only thing I found odd was a long platform that divided the floor almost completely in half. I could see two entrances that led onto the platform from behind a wall. Surprisingly there weren't many people dining at the tables that spread out and away from the platform.

Athanasios led me over to a table with his name on it, right next to the platform, and sat me down, "This place is quite special."

I looked around at the nearly empty room, "I'm sure."

He sat on my immediate left, "You'll see in a few moments why this place is my favorite."

Deciding a comment about how business must not be good was imprudent, I settled on what I hoped passed for contented silence. I could pretend to like him, but I didn't. I didn't want to and I wouldn't. Simple as that. He was conniving, rude, spoiled, and had some hidden agenda I had yet to figure out. I started to be more actively suspicious after the last 'date' we had. So far Athanasios had two chances to... get me alone, and he hadn't taken either of them. Which meant he quite possibly wanted me for something else entirely. I was going crazy running through everything we'd ever said, trying to figure out his motives. And I had nothing.

At five till one a whole crowd came streaming in through the front doors of the restaurant. Lights dimmed, music started, and I found that suddenly the whole place was filled to the brim. Lights flooded the platform as I realized it was a _stage_.

A woman dressed in the craziest orange and pink clothing I had ever seen stepped out onto the stage. Everyone around me— except for Athanasios of course— began either cheering or snapping pictures. The model stuck a pose at the end of the runway, another, and then walked straight off. A second model, this time male, did the same thing. I watched quietly as the models strutted, but something was off. A lack of some emotion. Pride or joy maybe?

Suddenly a tray was set in front of me. Looking up, I froze. The second model, the man, was serving me. He didn't look the way I had expected a Capitol model to look. For one he didn't have a privileged snobby air about him. Another thing though was that this man's throat kept moving in an odd way, almost as if he didn't know how to swallow.

"Avox." I breathed.

This was messed up on so many levels. What did this poor Avox do to get his tongue cut out, be dressed in such incredibly uncomfortable clothes, and have to serve meals to the same people who condoned or even enjoyed his treatment?

"All of them."

I turned to see it was Athanasios who had spoken and couldn't stop myself, "Why?"

"Why not?" the Prince shrugged and callously began to cut the meat on his plate, "Look at what you're doing and tell me how different it is from this Avox's job."

For a second I wanted to reach across the table and stab the fork in my hand into the Prince's soft throat. It would be too easy. The Avoxes wouldn't stop me. The Capitol people were certainly too coddled to do so. And then nothing would stop Snow from doing something drastic. Who knows, if I killed his son, Snow just might wipe District Twelve off the map. Which meant my secret wish went up in flames as if it had been rolled in coal dust.

I smiled slowly, "I can't serve pheasant the way he can."

_And he doesn't have a mean right hook like me_, I thought to myself.

This made Athanasios pause for a second in his dicing, "Your spirit never ceases to surprise me."

"It's a work in progress." I shrugged in a most uninterested way.

"But there's something else there," Athanasios leaned closer and caught my gaze before I began an intense study of the tablecloth; what lovely silk, "It's not courage. Or fear. I see something one doesn't find in other Victors."

My heart pounded louder than the music as I waited for his response.

"Goodness. Your astounding will to save others no matter what they have done." his breath tickled my ear as he spoke barely loud enough to be heard in the chaos, "And the most delicious part is the darkness there too. A darkness you can't fight and is slowly swallowing your goodness whole. That's the reason I picked you, Titania. I could see how hopelessly at war you were with yourself as you stood on that pedestal. It was so beautiful to watch."

"Was?" I asked so quietly I couldn't be sure he heard me. It's too sick. This man liked something no human being should like about me.

"I wanted your reaction. Because there, just now, your eyes did it all over again. Your disgust with what you've become since the innocent charming girl who grew up in a loving family. At the same time a part of you knows how easily you could kill me. And you want to do it, little lovely."

Turning my head slowly, I leaned close to Athanasios' face, "I thought pet names didn't usually come until later."

He leaned forward, looking too perfect to be truly handsome, and pressed his lips to mine. I tried to pull away. Why was he kissing me? I hadn't denied I wanted to kill him. Did Athanasios Snow have a death wish? Because I might fulfill it in the next few seconds.

"You taste dark, little lovely." Athanasios smiled with cold satisfaction as he sat back in his seat.

"I never denied I think of killing you sometimes." I said with as much control as possible going into managing the hot ball of hate burning in my chest.

"But you won't. We both know who holds the ax over your families heads."

"Daddy." I smirked as the satisfaction wiped clean off his face.

"Come here." Athanasios hissed and grabbed my arm rather hard, "It's time I show you something."

The two Avoxes who served us followed as his Highness roughly dragged me along. My fingers began to tingle from lack of circulation, but I ignored it. This wasn't a run of the mill 'hey I want you to see something'. Whatever Athanasios wanted me to see was something I was not going to like. There was a high possibility of this thing frightening me if he kept it a secret until now. All he cared about was cooperation and I will be the first to admit that isn't my middle name. Or, er, at least not with Capitol people.

Athanasios shoved open a door which hit the wall on the other side with a reverberating _boom,_ "Get inside."

The room smelled of stale air and exotic coffee as I was practically tossed inside. Most of the walls were boring flat gray cement with the occasional filing cabinet, but this isn't what caught my interest. Across an entire wall were television screens featuring each individual tribute. At the right side of those screens was some kind of list.

With all the grace of an angry duck, Athanasios stalked over to the screens. Turning a knob next to the blonde from three's screen Athanasios hit a button. A flower bush mere feet from her released a voluminous cloud of what looked like pollen. And she melted. I mean, the girl's flesh liquefied before my eyes and soon all that was left was a skeleton in a tribute uniform. Suddenly I understood what the lists on screen were.

"Traps." I whispered.

Athanasios shot me a cold glare, "Indeed."

"You could come down here and kill any one of them at any moment?" shock hit me like a wet towel to the face.

"Just as easily as my father can have someone Reaped." he sneered as if this would absolutely floor me.

The words popped out of my mouth before I could stop them and I wished instantly that I could take it back, "Old news."

The Prince's eyes narrowed to snaky little slits.

"Let's see what traps are near you little boyfriend." Athanasios hissed and strode over to Haymitch's screen.

"No!" Too late I started to move towards him.

Athanasios grabbed the knob next to Haymitch's screen and he knew he had me. Nothing I did would be fast enough to stop him from killing Haymitch. Even if I could manage to reach one of my shoes in time— admittedly not the best weapon since they were flats— a shoe to the face would only make Athanasios angrier. Not the best move. A different course of action was needed here.

"Well, you've got me." I said and folded my hands behind my back calmly with a playful smile even though I couldn't be more upset, "Now what do you want with me?"

This took Athanasios off guard and he studied me. Obviously my reaction wasn't what he'd expected. Which made him more prone to the calculating attitude I'd already grown to hate. At the moment it didn't matter if I liked Athanasios' attitude or not. A plan was forming in my mind. Something manipulative, cunning, and a lot of hopefully adept flirting.

"At the moment, nothing but a little cooperation."

"You wouldn't like me so much if I were cooperative." I stuck out my lower lip slightly and gave him a pouting face.

He gave me another look over as he tried to figure out what I was doing.

"Don't lie," I said slowly as I eased closer to him, "you like me when I'm stubborn."

"Perhaps."

I sidled up to Athanasios, pressed my right shoulder against his left, and looked up over his shoulder at him, "When I'm defiant."

He shot me another leery glare.

"And especially when I do something," I stood on my tiptoes so my face was closer to his, "unexpected."

That's about when I licked his lips. I'd been hoping for him to step away from me, and consequently away from Haymitch's screen, but it was my turn to be surprised. Athanasios just stood there. When I met his gaze again one perfect brown eyebrow was arched over his emerald green eyes.

"Well how kind of you to wet my lips for me." Athanasios stated flatly.

Seriously? How much would it take to get him to forget Haymitch? "It was sort of an invitation."

"I find it odd to kiss someone while threatening them."

Oh, so he at least had _some_ scruples.

"You are threatening someone who will probably die in the next couple of days even if you don't kill him today." I got even closer until my body was pressed against his, trying desperately to avoid wrapping my deceptively strong fingers around his perfect little neck, "So why bother killing him now?"

"You have a strange point. One that could have been made at a distance." Athanasios said in the same bland tone as before; however when I started to back away from him, he let go of the knob next to Haymitch's screen and wrapped his arms around his waist, "I don't wan't you to hate me, my little lovely. And you are correct; I picked you because you are stubborn and a bit defiant. But you must understand your place in this odd deal I've made with my father."

If my ears could the'd have perked at this, "Then I probably ought to know what this 'odd deal' is."

Athanasios paused for a moment, "Only if you promise me one thing: a random favor I can request at any time."

I weighed my options carefully. What kind of favor would the Prince of Panem want? Dinner? A dance? Other... more intimate things? I had no idea, but honestly, there wasn't much choice. Either I stayed in the dark about this deal the two Snows made or I got the information I needed at an unknown price.

"Deal." I said carefully.

"My father allowed me to have you so long as I don't ever try to 'dethrone' him."

I stood there with my mouth hanging open in shock. Of course things had to be a whole new level of weird. I mean, was having me really worth giving up a shot at ruling Panem? Why did Athanasios Snow want me at his side so badly?

"Don't hurt yourself, little lovely. It's only a matter of time before everything makes sense." Athanasios said softly, his lips too close to my ear for comfort.

"I'm one who likes to try and figure them out before someone has to hand me the answer on a silver tray next to the vomit tonic."

"No doubt. However, I don't want to fill our time with idle chatter."

Later on the elevator ride up to the District Twelve loft I couldn't shake the feeling of being coated in filth. Thankfully nothing extreme happened between the Prince and I. Just some really gross kissing I could have lived without. Still, the rose scent all Snows seemed to emanate slightly sat in my pores and it wouldn't be soon enough when it washed away.

As I stepped out of the elevator I saw Taftan quickly walking away from me. Almost as if he'd been waiting for me and didn't want me to know. I walked straight down the hall to my room trying, and failing, to ignore Taftan's footsteps as he followed a short distance behind. Whatever this new behavior was it had to stop. If not it would drive me insane.

I spun around, "Is there a reason you're shadowing me?"

He looked a bit surprised at my harsh tone, "You... well you... and Athanasios..."

"A big ball of nothing much." I snapped, not wanting to relive the past few hours.

"Good. I was a bit worried today was the day he would have you—"

"Woah, stop right there. The answer is 'no he didn't'. Now if you don't mind I would like to go shower."

Taftan gave me a concerned frown, "You know I'm here for you if you—"

"I know you're here for me! Now why don't you just leave me alone for a while?!" I shouted, feeling childish and not caring, before slamming the door in his face.

"_Men_." I muttered petulantly to myself, back against the door.

I decided to take a nice hot shower. A long time passed before the tension had ebbed enough for me to even consider leaving my little safe haven. Boys were so annoying sometimes. Poor Titania. Little Titania. Can't take care of herself. She's so broken. Vulnerable.

For goodness sake. Did I or did I not win the Hunger Games? Had I not killed people for no other reason than to save my own skin? Vulnerable people did not do that. I honestly _could_ take care of myself. Who were these men in my life to tell me I needed them?

Sinking to the tiled floor I clutched my head. But I was broken. And strong. Phantom pains of wounds received forever ago began to flare. Even the emotional scars which had long since healed started to hurt. Over and over my life flashed in front of my eyes in chronological order. All of the decisions leading to someone's death. Every movement, every word. Everything.

It took too long to pull out of the haze of pain. How much time passed since I'd gotten back to the loft? Two hours? Three? Finally I got my legs underneath me and trudged out of the shower still dripping wet. Athanasios was right. I fought hopelessly with who I was day in and out. Because somehow I was both weak and strong, stupid and smart, good and bad.

By the time the flashbacks quit all I wanted to do was crawl under the covers and pass out. Unfortunately that plan went out the window when I realized another Hunger Games update would be on soon. Dragging on whatever clothing I grabbed first, I made my way slowly down the hall and flopped face down onto the nearest couch.

I could hear Taftan stand to 'help' me, "Are you oka—"

Pointing one finger at him I growled, "Don't you dare finish that sentence. I'm tired. Not _hurt_."

His footsteps froze then made their way back over to the other couch where he sat. The television flared to life as the Capitol anthem started the update. I turned my face just enough to see the screen. Were the Games usually this dull? I supposed not. It must be Haymitch's being in the tribute pool. Everyone else was so uninteresting compared to him. Sure I noticed the little things a good mentor ought to like a particular air about District One's only remaining girl. Something about her screamed 'I'm a murderer, hope you don't mind becoming my next demonstration'. Thinking back to the District One boy from my own Games I briefly wondered if it was a coincidence or if it was a District One thing. Oh, well. It's not like those kinds of questions matter anyways.

At last, Haymitch's face made an appearance. Despite my current frustration at all things male I sat up to watch my boyfriend. His dark curly hair was greasy and matted. He was bruised, cut, scraped, and underfed. I didn't care, I was happy Haymitch was still alive. I loved him and every moment I saw his eyes holding onto his signature determined spark of life I breathed a little easier.

"So... why are we headed so far out?" Maysilee asked from his right as they made camp.

For the briefest moment Haymitch looked directly at one of the cameras. It was almost as if he could sense my frustration with him on this subject. Maysilee was never going to stop asking that question and if it was annoying me, no doubt the Capitol was tearing their hair out about it too. If Haymitch didn't cave soon the sponsors would move elsewhere. What chance did he stand then?

"Because it has to end some where, right?" he said, finally giving in, "The arena can't go on forever."

Maysilee seems both surprised and confused at his logic, "What do you expect to find?"

"I don't know." he shrugs then gave her a small secretive smile, "But maybe there's something we can use."

* * *

**Taa-daaaa! I hope you all appreciate my using dialogue straight from 'Catching Fire' for the last scene.**

**Hey you guys, I was wondering what you thought about songs you feel represent The Victor Saga? I have a few personal picks such as _Demons_ by Imagine Dragons. So, I guess I just want to hear what songs you the readers pick. Let me know in your reviews.**


	12. Chapter 11 The Certificate is Signed

**So, I'm going to start doing that lyric thing you see other authors do. Maybe not every chapter, I don't have a ton of time to look for songs if one doesn't come to mind, but I'll definitely start working with this little trend.**

* * *

_And I feel fine  
But I know the same does not apply to you  
I know the same does not apply to you  
So I guess that I'll curl up and die, too._

_-Curl up and Die_ by Reliant K

* * *

The tall hedges tried to resist but eventually gave way to the power of the flamethrower in Haymitch's hands. It wasn't his flamethrower. The owner wouldn't be able to use it anymore though, seeing as the hulking Career was on his way back to District Two in a coffin. As it turns out, a knife to the chest kills even the largest of tributes.

I stretched out on the couch as I watched the flames eat up the dense brush. No one was bothering me today. And by no one I mean men. Taftan and Alvis were seated on the other couch, keeping their eyes glued to the screen as if one glance at me would turn them to stone. Who knows? Maybe it would.

Carefully Haymitch made his way through the hole in the hedge and began working on the second row. Maysilee stayed behind, keeping an eye out for other tributes from her hiding place in a nearby copse of trees. Of course there isn't much action watching Haymitch burn a bunch of hedges so the Gamemakers show clips of the other tributes from time to time. I was surprised there wasn't a feast yet. There were so few tributes left in such a big Arena. Everyone must be holding their breath in suspense to see what Haymitch finds. I knew I was more than just a little bit curious. Apparently the suspense was enough to keep a feast away.

Laughing to myself as I thought, _suspense each day keeps the Gamemakers away._

Things got intensely boring after that. Alvis and Taftan were giving me the space I asked for. Which was nice. And quite relaxing. And so dull I wanted to pull my hair out after an hour. I ordered chocolate fondue and climbed into the shower. Even though I was in the shower for over an hour and ended up ordering a second bowl of fondue, I only managed to burn up three hours.

Of course when i finished snacking it was about time for dinner. But who would be hungry after two bowls of fondue? So getting some decent sleep was next on my list. Crawling into the bed Haymitch once slept in made me relax a bit and I was out like a light.

The next day was pretty similar. I tried to enjoy my space and failed horribly. Two more tributes died and luck would have it that neither of them were mine. The most frustrating part of my day was a brunch one of the Capitol's 'higher-ups' put on. Who knew poisonings were fairly common in the Capitol? With my luck it would have made sense for me to catch a tad of the poison, spend the rest of the day suffering stomach cramps, and wishing I was dead. Cause it's exactly what happened.

The real excitement happened the day after that. Haymitch finally burned through the last of the hedges. He and Maysilee stepped through the smoldering brush to find about twenty feet of rocky earth that ended in a cliff. The camera briefly showed a the audience of the base of the cliff. A bunch of sharp jagged rocks were packed tightly together there like a pack of wild dogs waiting for a cat to fall from the tree. It gave me shivers to think of landing on them.

Maysilee swallowed nervously and stepped away from the cliff edge, "I hate to say I told you so."

He only scowled at her.

"That's all there is, Haymitch. Let's go back."

"No," he went back to examining the cliff edge without the slightest emotion, "I'm staying here."

A sudden strain appeared between them. For days Maysilee let him drag her across the dangerous terrain in pursuit of a goal she'd been hoping he would give up on. At the same time Haymitch felt like he had pulled her into a fairly safe area of the Arena to find something that would give them an edge against the other competitors. He wouldn't leave and she wouldn't stay. I could see it all over Maysilee's face. She'd had enough and was drawing the line.

"All right. There's only five of us left. May as well say good-bye now. Anyway, I don't want it to come down to you and me." she says evenly while glaring at the back of his head.

This was a test and if he didn't come, well, she would leave him all by himself. A loaded pause hung between them as we all waited to see Haymitch's reaction to this ultimatum. I swear if someone dropped a pin on the other side of the Capitol I would be able to hear it in the silence.

"Okay." he agrees.

I didn't know how everyone else handled this, but I felt relieved. Not because Maysilee was a threat to Haymitch and I's relationship or anything. Psh. Not even. Never in a million years would I, Titania Fellcrest, Victor of the Hunger Games, be jealous of my boyfriend's cute little former ally.

Maysille clenched her jaw like she wanted to say something more. Then she walked away, looked back at him once with a hurt glimmer in her blue eyes, and disappeared through the hedges. I could hear Caesar and Claudius begin to throw a fit over how things ended between the pair. Apparently everyone else was thinking the two made a great pair. Well, that's just because they don't know about him and _I_.

The camera started to show shots of the other four tributes in between shots of Maysilee walking through the woods and Haymitch resting near the end of the Arena. Suddenly the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. Something was going to happen. Right here, right now, a big twist in the Games was going to occur. It was almost as if some psychic sixth sense had been developed from my time in the Arena. I could feel it in the marrow of my bones. Sweat began to gather along my hairline. What was going to happen?

A pebble suddenly jumped up and hit the ground not far from Haymitch. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. So much for my big theory. It was just a little piece of rock Haymitch had probably dislodged when inspecting the cliff edge. Wait.

_So why was it jumping back up again?_ I wondered.

Haymitch must be thinking along the same thoughts because he grabbed a fist sized rock and tossed it over the cliff into oblivion. A few moments later it jumped back up and landed in his hand. He started laughing and so did I. A force field. Of _course_. The Gamemakers couldn't have people pitching themselves off the cliff. There was no sport in watching someone commit suicide. So precautions were made. No one would take away the Gamemakers' fun.

Suddenly a terrified scream rang out. My hair stood straight on end from the unearthly sound. The cameras switch over to Maysilee. A flock of candy pink birds with skewer shaped beaks surrounded her. No one would stand a chance with her supplies. A dozen poison darts against twenty or more birds? Not even I could make that one fly.

The cameras stayed on Maysilee as she fought the beasts off for a moment. Then it frustratingly cut over to Haymitch. Who was sprinting through the undergrowth as if it wasn't even there. He was running to her. Between his knife and her darts they just might make it.

As my boyfriend tore through the last of the brush the worst happened. One of the birds snuck past Maysilee's defenses. The skin of her soft throat was so frail compared to the bird's beak. A thing honed to kill. Haymitch bellowed something in incomprehensible rage and charged the flock of birds. The muttations scampered off like chickens leaving him without the least bit of reconciliation. Figures that the Gamemakers would make the little beasts tuck tail in order to give their favorite 'couple' some time to say goodbye. Turning back, Haymitch went to kneel by Maysilee's side. She was choking to death on her own blood and he knew there was nothing he could do.

After a few tense seconds of what looked like indecision, Haymitch grabbed his former ally's hand. Poor Maysilee apparently hadn't seen him until that moment and now she had his hand in a death grip. Tears leaked down her face as she tried to say something.

_I'm sorry._

But he just shook his head. There was nothing she needed to apologize for. Haymitch swallowed to get rid of a lump in his throat and wiped away Maysilee's tears. She made this gurgling which sounded almost like it would have been relieved laughter. I could hardly breath as I watched. Then her body seized a couple of times before finally going still. Foggy memories of myself dying surfaced. The way it felt to suffocate. To crave air you knew was pressing against every cell of your body. One last gurgle escaped the girl's lips and I swore I could faintly hear two cannons ring.

Maysilee Donnor was no more.

Everyone was silent as Caesar and Claudius began to comment. A thought struck me. Was this how Alvis felt when Bay was dying? So hopelessly unable to help and wishing there was something, _anything_, he could do. My own voice brought me out of my reverie.

"Bay?" I called out.

Only it wasn't me. Or, not the me sitting on the couch watching the Hunger Games. Apparently someone thought now was the perfect opportunity to play a clip from the 48th Games. The me on screen had mud smeared across half of her body and was soaking wet. She looked around. The call was rewarded with a groan from nearby. Scampering quickly over to another body in the mud, Titania knelt next to her partner. Bits of plant matter were stuck to him as he laid panting on the soggy ground.

"Bay, oh my gosh, you scared—," That's when she, er, the former me saw it.

The jagged bit of stick covered in Bay's blood and the gaping wound it left in his side. Horror covered her dirty face. Then it was replaced by an intense determination.

"I'll save you."

The scene played out. Bay grabbed my hand and I held it as he died. Like Haymitch had just done for Maysilee. Caesar and Claudius began to speculate about District Twelve and our emerging pattern of saying goodbye when I got off the couch and went to Haymitch's room. Who cared if the update wasn't completely finished? I was done with it. An Avox brought me some food which I dutifully nibbled at before curling into a ball and crying myself to sleep despite the late afternoon sun. I missed my best friends.

Nightmares of Bay dying plagued me more than usual that night. A particularly strange dream where I watched a video of Bay being chased down by pink bird muttations seemed to be the focus. They had various weapons somehow clutched in their wings as they ran. Two more of the birds seemed to be narrating the whole thing. It was so weird and yet strangely more frightening because of it.

Something shook my shoulder and my eyes were met with candy pink. I screamed and struck out blindly. My heart pounded a million miles an hour. How in the heck had those muttations gotten into the training center? Was Snow punishing me for not watching yesterday's second update?

"Ow!"

My eyes focused revealing a very stricken Taftan rubbing his chest. Thank goodness I hadn't slept in only my underwear last night. I'd experienced enough deja-vu in the last twenty-four hours to last a lifetime.

"What was that for?" he mumbled.

"You sca—" I stopped and rethought my choice of words, "you frightened me."

Taftan gave me an apologetic look, "It's the shirt isn't it? I was thinking it would be a memorial for Maysilee. I didn't think it would effect you like this. If it's too much I can chan—"

"No." I said a little too sharply and continued in a softer tone, "It's perfectly alright."

He smiled slightly, "So... how are you feeling this morning?"

I shrugged, "Fine."

An awkward silence fell between us.

"Do you want strawberries?"

"What?"

"Strawberries. The Avoxes brought some up with breakfast today." he twiddled his thumbs in his lap as he stared at them intently.

I glanced at the clock, shocked to see it reading _nine AM_, "Sure, I guess. After I shower?"

He shrugged slightly, "That's probably best."

We sat in silence a moment longer. Taftan looked like he desperately wanted to get something off of his chest. Then he stood without a word and left. Kicking myself mentally, I stripped down, and turned on the hot water in the shower.

It was my fault. If I hadn't told Taftan to leave me alone, this awkwardness would've never blossomed between us. Which could only mean one thing: I was going to have to apologize for snapping at him when he was just trying to be nice. I shut the water off with a heavy sigh. If there was one thing I hated more than being treated like a baby, it was admitting I was wrong to someone. Well, anyone really.

Putting on the most comfortable clothes available, which honestly wasn't saying much considering they were Capitol-style, I slunk down the hall into the dining area.

"_Titania Fellcrest!_" Alvis screeched.

Oh, boy. I was in some serious trouble. Perhaps I forgot something important? Actually yes. I hadn't watched the afternoon update yesterday. No wonder he had his specially crafted silk boxers in a wad.

"What, _Alvis Terrene?_" I growled moodily, preparing myself for an earful.

"In all my years as an escort I have never seen such irresponsible behavior!" he howled, "There we were,_ nine_ days into the Hunger Games with _four people left_, and you think you can _skip an update?!_"

"Listen, I'm sorry about that. Seeing Bay—"

"Seeing _Bay?_" he hisses and his voice escalates, "What kind of idiotic _excuse_ is that? Two tributes _died_ in the update you missed!"

My stomach dropped through the floor and I could feel the blood rush from my face, "Wh-wha—"

Taftan broke in, "Guys."

Alvis rampaged on, ignoring him, "You are so lucky your precious boyfriend isn't dead yet! You won't be so lucky anymore when the District One girl catches back up to him!"

I staggered back a couple steps, my nerve faltering, "Why didn't you wake me?"

He froze and suddenly I realized it had never occurred to him to get me up. So much for my nerve wavering. It came back full force in a boiling mass of rage. This time it was my turn to howl.

"Nine days into the Hunger Games and you didn't think to wake me?!"

"Hey!" Taftan shouted, effectively catching our attention, "Enough with all the shouting and accusing. This morning's update is on."

At last I was aware of Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith babbling in the background. They were replaying yesterday afternoon's events. The District One girl killing the boy from Five who had been hiding in what looked like large fox dens under some of the larger trees. The other tribute who died was from Eight. She made the unfortunate choice of killing a fluffy golden squirrel. Yeah, her death wasn't pretty or all that dignifying. Then again, death by carnivorous squirrel wasn't _the_ most embarrassing way to go. Tripping and falling on one's own weapon was. A running tally of five tributes had done this. Let me say this: it's not something one wants to be remembered for.

I stood frozen where I was as the footage began to play in real time. Haymitch, arm clutched desperately to his wounded stomach, was making his way through the woods. He hadn't been back to the cliff since Maysilee died, but I knew that's where he was headed now. The footage cut to the District One girl stalking through the woods after him. Her bloodied ax held at the ready. Her right eye... it dangled from the damaged socket, dripping blood down her face like a river of crimson tears. A wound inflicted by a knife. Even with her inability to use both eyes she was able to track him. Mostly because of how much blood Haymitch was trailing behind himself.

"Where's his knife?" I asked.

Taftan shook his head sadly, "He dropped it when she gave him that wound to his abdomen."

A wave of nausea hit and I clenched my teeth. I hadn't been there for him. And there was nothing I could do now as the girl from One hunted him down. The Parachute Station would be closed because there were only two tributes left. Not that there was any money left for me to spend. I'd spent the last of it the day before last sending Haymitch an apple. Yes, that's right. A. Single. Apple. And guess how much it cost? One hundred and twenty six dollars.

Haymitch scrambled through the long dead coals of the hedges over to the edge of the cliff. Without a weapon he was surely going to die. What was he planning on doing? Shoving her over the cliff and hoping the force-field killed her?

The District One girl arrived after a few tense moments. Arms flexing menacingly, the girl hefted her ax. The suspense made everything feel like everything went still. No one dared move for fear of triggering some sway in the balance. The District One girl gave Haymitch a wicked smile. Then in one jarring movement she hurled her ax. My breath caught in my throat as I watched its journey to my boyfriend's head. At the very last second Haymitch dropped to the ground and the ax soared well above him.

But it was coming back. I knew it. The rest of the audience might not remember the pebble Haymitch knocked over the cliff but I did. The ax was going to bounce back. Haymitch used the force-field as a weapon. The force-field designed by the Capitol to trap the tributes and encourage them to fight one another. The show of the Capitol's strength and omniscience. And my boyfriend is using it to kill one of their favorite lap-dogs. To show them up.

Suddenly the ax buried itself into the District One girl's skull. The cannon went off and soon after the trumpets. Caesar and Claudius began to celebrate. They announced Haymitch as the winner of the second Quarter Quell. Vaguely I was aware of Taftan and Alvis congratulating me.

How could Haymitch do this? Didn't he understand the repercussions of what he'd just done? This was so much worse than delaying Snow's plans. I couldn't hardly begin to imagine how many people were going to die for this one. Standing frozen in the same spot I'd been all morning I began to run through worst case scenarios. Suddenly an awful realization dawned on me.

"Titania? What's wrong?" Taftan asked gingerly.

"Cheer _up_ darling! Your other boy-toy _survived_ after all." Alvis snickered in a way so annoying only Capitol people managed it.

A vase clipped him in the shoulder. My vision started to get the tell tale red tinge of bloodlust as I reached for another. If Taftan wouldn't have shoved Alvis into the elevator, I would have finally killed him. Alvis always got on my nerves but this morning he was dancing on my very last one.

"Don't listen to him. We went over this; Alvis is a no-brained pincushion wh—,"

"Stop." I growled with tears leaking down my face.

"Alright. Now, tell me what the matter is."

I ran over to my best friend and threw my arms around him as I began to sob.

He wrapped his arms around me, not hesitating in the slightest to forgive my previously deplorable behavior, "Shh. It's okay."

I shook my head against his chest, "N-no it is-sn't. It-t's all goin-ng t-to beg-gin with m-me."

Taftan rubbed my back and stroked my hair, "Calm down, you're not making any sense."

Swallowing hard a couple times I spoke in a steadier voice, "It's all going to begin with me."

"What is?"

"The punishment." I whispered into his shirt.

Taftan pushed me back a little so he could look me in the eye, "I still don't get it."

Taking a deep breath I explained, "Snow killed my father because I delayed being one of his courtesans. How's Snow going to take Haymitch using one of his force-fields against him?"

Realization crept up on him, "Very, _very _badly."

"And who's he going to kill first?"

"You."

"That's what's wrong." I began to shake from head to toe, "I've just had my death certificate signed."

Taftan was silent for a moment. The same look he'd gotten on his face throughout the Quell came back. The one where he was intensely struggling with telling me something. After a few agonizing seconds dragged by like eternity he spoke.

"Snow wouldn't kill you if you weren't Haymitch's girlfriend." he said carefully.

"Wha—"

"If you broke up with Haymitch and started dating someone else, then maybe Snow would decide to not kill you." Taftan brushed the tears from my face with his big warm thumb, "People get together and break up all the time. It's not like he'd kill Haymitch's _ex-_girlfriend."

"For argument's sake let's say I broke up with Haymitch. What would I live for?" I asked, eyes lowered to the floor, "All of my plans for the future revolve around him. He's my happily-ever-after."

Taftan cupped my face in his hands and forced me to meet his gaze, "It sounds like you just need a couple revisions."

And Taftan kissed me. His lips tasted faintly of caramel and strawberries as they moved against mine. I'd forgotten how this felt— kissing Taftan. The immediate adoration and love offered as soon as his lips met mine. Strong arms pulled me closer. My hands gripped his shirt of their own volition for a moment before the shock wore off and I broke the kiss.

"Love _me_." Taftan breathed, pressing his forehead to mine, "I can give you everything you've ever wanted: friends, a family, a husband who will be supportive every step of the way, and protect you when you need it. Nothing is ever set in stone. Haymitch isn't the only person who can provide you with the life you want so badly."

"I do love you, Taftan." I said slowly, "Just not the way you want me to."

"Why?" he asked, tears beginning to trickle down his cheeks, "Why not?"

"Because you love a girl who died two years ago." I stroked his damp cheeks, "She's not coming back. She's dead in the Arena with her face swollen past recognition. She loved you and saw a real future with you. But I'm not her. I love you, but I'm not _in_ love with you."

My best friend's voice cracked, "You can try. Even if it's just to save your life."

I hugged him, feeling my heart break in two, "You know I won't."

He began to cry into my shoulder, "I know."

I stroked his hair and tried to keep from bawling myself, "I can't keep hurting you like I have been. It's time for us to say goodbye. For good this time."

Taftan only nodded and held me tighter as he continued to weep. For a little while I stayed strong. At the moment Taftan needed me to help him put the pieces together, right? Wrong. I finally broke down when I realized that I was placing the final blow in a cracked vase, sending shards of it scattering across the floor for him to pick up when I was gone. He'd finally be able to start healing. Me too. So until the sun was high over the gleaming Capitol city, I let the swollen faced girl inside cry herself to sleep for the last time.

Then I let her die.


	13. Chapter 12 Reunited At Last

**Happy Independence Day to my fellow Americans out there! Have a good one!**

_Like a shell upon a beach  
Just another pretty piece  
I was difficult to see  
But you picked me_

_-You Picked me_ by A Fine Frenzy

* * *

"What do you mean I can't see him?" I demanded and took a menacing step closer to the surgeon.

He looked nervous and took a step back, bumping into the white hospital wall, "Mr. Abernathy is still recovering from his—"

"Say it." I hissed, making him even more uncomfortable.

"_Stomach wound_." the surgeon obliges.

"And how does some stitches on his stomach prevent him from talking to me?" I said and stepped forward, effectively pinning him against the wall. He'd have to answer me this time. No more distractions. I was done waiting for a straightforward answer.

"_Titania._" Alvis chided as he came up behind me, effectively killing any chance I had at getting the surgeon to tell me anything.

_This_ time.

As the surgeon slid along the wall away from me and down the hall I gave him my best death glare. Eventually they would either have to release Haymitch to be crowned or let me in to see him. And from the looks on the faces of the hospital staff they weren't too keen on my staying here any longer than necessary. Three times already they'd tried to have me escorted out. Yeah, the hospital guards they had weren't exactly Peacekeeper grade.

"Give them some _time._" Alvis placed a hand on my shoulder in a semi-comforting gesture. Sure he still wasn't over the me hitting him with a vase thing, but he decided to 'be the better person' or something like that. My guess though is someone sent for him to come get me under control before I made anyone else be in need of medical attention.

For the next hour or so I act civilly to everyone except the surgeon whom I am watching for any opportunity to pounce. I tried sitting in a chair in the hallway but that won't do. Everyone keeps staring at me. Half because of my lunatic behavior half because the people here know my secret. They know I died at the end of my Games and how difficult it was to bring me back. I tried sitting on the floor which helps me feel a little less on display.

Then the boredom sets in. Whenever the surgeon isn't around all I have to do is count the number of crests they have in the hospital's wave patterned trim. then naming each crest. Not just one name either. I was perhaps three-quarters of the way through giving the crests middle names when the surgeon appeared at the end of the hallway. Reluctantly he waved for me to follow him past the double doors that stood between Haymitch and I.

As soon as I saw him I knew Hyamitch had been having a tough time of it. His usually sarcastic grin was strained and his face was beaded with sweat. In fact his hospital gown was soaked. Slowly I made my way over to Haymitch. Was I dreaming? Was he really here, alive and breathing before me? I reached out and touched the back of his hand with my finger tips. The skin was clammy but most definitely real. In fact the hand slipped mine into it.

"Try not to make him laugh. There's still a chance he could tear the new tissues growing in his abdominal cavity." the surgeon instructs quietly before leaving me in the room alone with my boyfriend.

We stayed silent until the surgeon left the room before breaking the silence.

"Well. This is not quite how I imagined our reunion would be like." Haymitch said quietly.

"Don't worry we'll have a proper reunion once you're out of this wretched place." I smiled and squeezed his hand lightly.

"Will there be shrimp at this gathering you're planning?" Haymitch asked with a knowing smile.

"You got me." I replied with a little grin. There was just something about seafood that man couldn't get enough of. A recent development of course.

For a few moments I studied Haymitch carefully. His skin had been removed of any scars and smoothed out. The callouses I was so used to feeling on his hands were gone. And his eyes were different. Not the color or shape or anything the Capitol could change so easily. No it was the way his eyes felt when they met mine. A cold sort of paranoia replaced the innocence there.

"What happened while I was in the Arena?" he questioned, rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand.

"What really happened between you and Maysilee?" I countered softly.

His grip tightened on my hand, "So that's how you're going to play this?"

I stared into his grey eyes resolutely, "Of course. Would you expect me to play any differently?"

From the look on Haymitch's face he knew this wasn't going to be a walk in the park. I wanted to know something, he wanted to know something, and neither of us really wanted to talk about those things just yet. However, if the opportunity to discuss what happened between my boyfriend and his ally came at the price of telling him what happened with Taftan, I would pay it gladly. It was only Haymitch who didn't seem completely on board.

"Yes, I started to fall in love with Maysilee. No, I never once allowed myself to act on those feelings." Haymitch said after quite the hesitation.

That's what I'd been afraid of. Though I don't suppose it matters anymore there was still a part of me which needed to know if he had cared for another girl. A morbid curiosity, one might call it. And it hit me like a kick in the stomach, making me feel a bit nauseous.

"Taftan tried to win me back. He caught me off guard with a kiss. I rejected him." I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, "He and I aren't friends anymore."

The door opened behind me, "Ms. Fellcrest, it's time to prepare Mr. Abernathy."

I gripped his hand harder and met my boyfriend's grey eyes again. If he didn't want me to leave there was nothing these Capitol idiots could do to make me stray from his side. Not even during the crowning ceremony. But he only nods towards the door.

"Go on then." Haymitch ground out.

Of course he didn't want me around— not after that little revelation— so I stood and nodded, "As you wish."

Something on my face must have given away how poorly I felt telling Haymitch had gone because Alvis put an arm around my shoulders. Even if he thought I'd been cheating on my boyfriend, Alvis knew how painful a breaking heart was. Though, one would be an expert on such subjects after four failed marriages and a fifth one going south.

When I made it back to the training center I found my bathroom had been transformed into a prep station. Delphin was there and had a worried crease in his forehead. While his team took care of Haymitch of course Delphin would take care of me. The two of us chatted through the door about silly non-important things while I scrubbed down in the shower. As soon as I was out though and he began prepping my face the subject turned to the events of that morning. Apparently if you are going to threaten a bunch of hospital staff you need to be prepared to have your face on the front of several tabloids. I assured Delphin it was nothing. Luckily he tended to take my words at face value so he didn't ask for further explanations.

I didn't see Haymitch again until we were both dressed and waiting for the Victor's interview. It was hard to think of Haymitch as a Victor until I saw him standing in a suit waiting to be let on stage. Then the reality of my situation hit me. Haymitch had won the Hunger Games, he was going to be crowned, and most importantly he stood two feet from me. Alive.

"I never meant for Taftan to be here, you know." I said just loud enough for him to hear.

Out of the corner of my eye I see him raise an eyebrow.

"He decided to come to the Capitol without telling me." I pressed on when he didn't respond, "So the whole thing about being here to keep me from going crazy was some stupid lie to get closer to me."

"I could have told you that." somehow he managed to make a snort sarcastic.

"Why didn't you say anything then?" I turned towards him.

Haymitch sighed, "Because you never would have believed me. Once you get something in your head Titania, you don't change your mind very easily."

I give him a small smile of triumph, "So you know I haven't changed my mind about loving you then."

He looked at me with a surprised expression.

It started to make me uncomfortable after a minute, "What?"

Before he could answer he was called onto the stage. It annoyed me to no end. The Capitol was always getting in the way. I only have so much time left with Haymitch and my family before Snow had me killed. For good this time. There was no way I'm going to waste a second of it. So moments like this where needing to make time consuming pleasantries for the ruling authorities really made a suicide mission to kill the president sound pretty tempting.

"It looks like you were right." Caesar said and I can see him smiling from here.

"Pardon?" Haymitch asked.

"About your odds of winning." Caesar chuckled, "Apparently they _were_ roughly the same despite there being twice the tributes."

"Did you ever doubt me?" Haymitch smirked.

The rest of the interview and crowning seemed to go well. Snow seemed to say something to Haymitch as they waved to the crowd. I panicked momentarily before realizing Snow wouldn't let Haymitch know he planned on having me killed. Had Snow warned me he would kill my father by delaying becoming a courtesan? No. I figured that out after the fact. And I was okay with Haymitch not blaming himself for my death until I was actually in the ground.

From the moment Haymitch stepped offstage we were assaulted with flashing cameras. Everything he might say would be recorded. It's safe to assume the two of us didn't do much talking. Not until the train doors closed behind us. The riotous noises from the practically rabid reporters muted instantly. Neither of us moved or spoke until the train was several miles from the Capitol.

"I'm not all that hungry are you?" Haymitch asked carefully.

"I'm never hungry anymore." I replied.

"Then we ought to get some sleep." he said and surprised me by grabbing my hand.

The two of us walked hand in hand along the train until we reached my compartment. Part of my was happy to hold his hand but the other part of me was worried what laid at the end of this little journey. Without a word Haymitch opened the door and I paused to close the door behind us. He dropped my hand before flopping onto my bed without permission. For a moment I wondered why this flagrant regard for my personal space only made me love him more. Who knows? Maybe I'd gone completely crazy a long time ago and no one bothered to tell me.

I sat down next to him and leaned back on my arms, "So I see some things never change."

"Nope. Not ever." Haymitch said with a touch of humor in his voice.

"So you aren't angry?" I asked tentatively.

"No." he sighs, "I can't stay angry with you. Apparently not even if it's about Taftan."

I smiled widely at this. At least my boyfriend wasn't upset anymore. That would have made the train ride home incredibly awkward. Possibly quite frustrating as well. And stupid considering there was no Taftan and I. Not for years now. It was weird to think it had in fact been two years since I'd broken up with my... former best friend. Dang it all. I lost another one. When was I going to keep a best friend?

Haymitch let out a bark of laughter, pulling me out of my thoughts, "I can see you made the right decision. As if there was a choice; who can resist my awesomeness?"

This made me giggle, "You had me from the first broken nose."

He grunted. "The first one wasn't so bad. The second one hurt the most."

I tried to fight a smile that was trying to surface despite the memory of our big falling out over my parent's ultimatum nearly three years prior, "Yeah, I had to punch you a lot harder because you were so hard-headed at that point."

"You weren't so spongy either." Haymitch pointed out.

"Are you insinuating something?" I asked raising an eyebrow.

Haymitch say up, "Only that my girlfriend can be quite mulish."

I huffed, "And where do you think I got _that_ from, hm?"

"Your Mom."

"Ah, yes. The old blame her mother ploy. Classic."

"You know, she could be someone else's mother too, Titania."

This made me pause. Haymitch knew my mother had other children. So, he had to be talking abut someone other than my brothers. Someone close to me. Someone sitting right next to me. And if he was talking about my mother being his it meant only one thing. My heart kicked up a couple notches.

Haymitch leaned forward and kissed me. It was cautious. Almost like he was afraid of breaking me. Which was possible I suppose, if he had a crazy side like I did and suddenly lost control. Momentarily I wondered which of our crazy sides would win if matched against each other.

Reaching into his pocket, Haymitch pulled out a thin rectangular box. When he opened it I had to stifle a gasp in order to not sound like some stupid school girl. Inside laid a beautiful silver necklace chain long enough to hide under a shirt looped through a ring. The way it was designed gave the illusion of tree branches encircling a little white gem. A diamond. Was he proposing? This made me nervous. Could I really accept when I knew I wouldn't live much longer?

"I'm not saying..." Haymitch swallowed nervously, "Not _now_... but someday."

Suddenly I didn't care if Snow was coming for me. I would deal with that when it arrived. For now I wanted to simply be seventeen and make plans and be _happy_ for even five minutes. Hopefully I'd earned that much.

After that things were kind of a blur. I may not have said it, but my acceptance was implied. One doesn't get offered a promise ring and make love to say no, after all. Originally I hadn't planned on going that far, but there was something about being away from Haymitch for so long that made me need him. All of him.

Morning light streamed down on us when I began to return to consciousness. Golden beams of sun illuminated strands of reddish tint in Haymitch's dark brown hair. I faded in and out for a while as my mind struggled contented sleep and wakefulness.

"Good morning sweetheart." I murmured tiredly as I came to.

"Good morning beautiful." Haymitch replied, sounding wide awake.

"Did you get woken up by a nightmare?" I yawned and snuggled closer to him.

"No." he mused and rested his chin on top of my head, "I had the most wonderful dream. The two of us... our toasting and then our lives afterward. Just as I got to a really good part where you were trying to tell me something important, I woke up and couldn't fall asleep again."

"What was I trying to tell you?"

"I don't know." Haymitch sighed, "I was hoping you could tell me."

Looking up, I met his gray eyes with my stormy blues, "I love you."

"I love you too. Sweetheart." Haymitch smiled warmly. We stayed like that— cuddled up together on my bed— for a while before I finally bothered to check the time. Who cares about time when you're happy and in love?

The two of us were late for breakfast— in fact we were late for lunch— so we decided to just stay in bed anyways. Neither of us really wanted to leave each other's embrace to spend time with Alvis and Taftan. It's not that we were ashamed or anything. However, Alvis would never let me live down my accidental kiss with Taftan. Because there was no doubt in my mind Taftan talked to him about it. And that was in the past. I planned on living like Death wasn't even aware I existed and no one was going to ruin it for me.

Eventually though we got hungry so I ordered some food while Haymitch showered. I put on a tank top and some shorts in order to be somewhat decent for the waiter. Eggs for me, shrimp for Haymitch, and orange juice to wash it all down. When he came out of the shower, only a towel wrapped around his waist, he saw the shrimp waiting for him. And laughed.

"What? Did you think I'd forget?" I smiled and sipped some juice.

"You are many things. Forgetful is not usually one of them." Haymitch smiled and came to sit down beside me on the bed, "Couldn't be bothered to get up I see."

I snorted, "Nope."

"Not even if we were arriving in Twelve soon?" he smirked mischievously.

"Someone's got a warped sense of time." I commented lightly before swallowing some eggs, "The train won't make it back to Twelve until tomorrow afternoon."

Haymitch popped a shrimp into his mouth and sighed, "At least I'll be able to console my homesickness with wonderful Capitol seafood."

I give him a weird look out of the corner of my eye, "You're homesick?"

The look he shot me mirrored my own, "Weren't you?"

I thought for a moment, "During the Games, but not so much on the train ride. Well, I was still a little overwhelmed with the coming back to life thing. Besides, Alvis didn't bother escorting me home, so I rode by myself the whole way. I mainly thought of seeing my family again, my boyfriend at the time, and..."

"And what?"

I sheepishly continued, "I might have thought about you. One or twice. Maybe."

He just chuckled, "Good to know. I think I _may_ have thought about you once or twice on my train ride as well. It's quite possible."

I punched his shoulder, "Shut up."

"Ow." Haymitch grunted, "Easy there tiger. I'm on the mend still."

I rolled my eyes, "If punching your shoulder was the key to splitting your abdomen it would have happened long ago. Several times."

He pouted slightly, "Where'd all the love go?"

Pointedly, I sipped my orange juice and proceeded to eat my breakfast. With Haymitch back my appetite seemed to have also returned. Now the latter very much demanded my attention. There was no way I could win an argument that I was not several pounds underweight. Luckily I wouldn't be going hungry any time soon due to my status as a Victor. Now Haymitch wouldn't either.

"What are you going to do when you go home?" I asked, unsure of the answer and suddenly very curious.

"Hmm." he mused, "You know, other than spending time with my girlfriend and my family, I don't have any real plans."

"Alright will you, please, be careful. Something about going home makes things... fisure between who you were and what the Capitol made you." I warned, concern written all over my face, "The nightmares and flashbacks aren't bad now, but they will be."

"Like you won't know if they do." Haymitch smirked deviously and took my breakfast dishes from me, placing them on the bedside table.

It didn't take a mind reader to tell where my boyfriend's mind was wandering. Geez. One day out of the Hunger Games and I was wishing the District One girl would have hit him a little lower than she did. Here I thought this was going to be a happy occasion.

Did we do the deed again? No. I'm not completely ruled by hormones unlike _someone_. Was there a lot of kissing preoccupying us for the afternoon? Yes. Let's face it. I'm not always as strong as I like to think I am. This just happened to be one of those times.

Hopefully I would have a lot more of these times before Snow's judgement came raining down.

* * *

**Sorry this one's a bit shorter. I'll try and be better in the next couple chapters. All of which are pretty happy chapters might I add. I think we all could use a break from Titania feeling depressed. It starts to weigh everybody.**

**gabz1197: Don't worry there are a lot more chapters to come, but oddly enough, yeah, there will be an epilogue. Just not soon.**

**Philippa: I'm sorry. I knew that last chapter was going to hurt some feelings.**


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